


A New Estate

by DarkHell616



Series: A New Estate - Specials [1]
Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Blood, Corpses, Crimson Peak Spoilers, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Gothic Romance, Mentions of Death, Slow Burn, Unofficial Sequel, gothic horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 04:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 43,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12787017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHell616/pseuds/DarkHell616
Summary: Unofficial sequel taking place ten years after the events of Crimson Peak.Odd happenings have been going on at Allerdale Hall.Perhaps there is more to the sudden quittings of the workmen than Father let's on, but something certainly isn't right here.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Welcome to my first posting on AO3.  
> This story has been posted on two other sites over the last year and I'm more than excited to share my stories with people!  
> There may be historical inaccuracies, I have researched various things as I've written each chapter but I will make no claim that it's anywhere near accurate or perfect.  
> I plan on posting one chapter a day until I've caught up with the eighteen chapters (plus bonus Halloween special chapter). At least as often as I can regarding work and other commitments.  
> Throughout the narrator is known as 'Mam', hence why I've classed it as xReader as I can't bring myself to name her.  
> I hope you enjoy my little slow burn story of hauntings.

It had been a long and bumpy ride, the carriage rattling on the cobbled pavement with only a short, temporary reprieve at some point during the arduous journey.

The constant vibrations of my seat shook my bones to a point where I'd begun to feel sick and could feel a terrible headache starting to kick in.

I had heard that my new estate was quite a travel away from my current home, but I hadn't quite expected this.

After hours of rattling, bouncing and feeling like the wheels of my carriage may come off at any point we finally reached the large gates of my newly claimed home.

Allerdale Hall.

The entrance gate had the look of something almost regal, with the red bricks holding an almost golden arch over the entry. The sign decorating the middle stating the estate name and topped with what I'd presume to be a family crest, surrounded by a design that reminded me of a clockwork spin wheel.

The red bricks of the pillars matched perfectly with the continuing wall that currently housed dead looking twigs, which grew up the blocks like clasping hands.

Past the gates lay a vastly empty and large area of land, it wasn't anything I'd call a garden, not with all the dead looking grass and leafless trees that barely decorated the view.

"For such dead looking things, the plant life sure is thriving," I muttered to myself as my eyes scanned the area.

The path, mainly brown mud which was tinted red, that led to the house was still a trek, I'd estimate that it would take at least five minutes to walk from the front gate to the main door of the large, foreboding manor that sat at the end.

As the carriage continued to bounce down the path, I took note of various bits of machinery I'd never seen the likes of before.

A smaller building stood to the side of one of these large machines.

Not something I would be getting close to if I could avoid it.

The manor itself was gorgeous, much better than how I'd imagined it to be.

Standing larger than I'd anticipated, who knew how many rooms were in there to explore.

The design was stunning, unlike any other building I'd seen in the countryside where I'd come from. Though I'd never seen anything as isolated either.

Each level was higher than the other, the dark roofs ending in small piers that were simply enticing to look at.

Everywhere you looked there'd be something new to look at, unlike many houses which all began to look the same after the first few.

Initially the front of the building looked almost perfectly symmetrical, it wasn't until you took a closer look at the details that things truly stood out.

Allerdale Hall was truly a unique something to behold.

And Father had bought it for barely a thing.

The carriage finally came to a stop, letting me jump out and take some much needed cool air, anything to try and ease my unsettled stomach.

Up close the manor was much more beautiful than I'd given it credit for, almost like an old dolls house my father made me for my birthday one year.

"Well, here ya go."

I turned away from my new home to face my driver, his thick, farmer like Wiltshire accent shining through in every sentence he spoke. An accent I had apparently not picked up unless spoken on specific words, despite living there for twenty five years.

His brown cap was covering slicked, greasy dark hair and matched his jacket and trousers. The only thing that didn't match was his beige shirt, white socks and black shoes, I could only tell his socks were an off white colour because his lanky legs caused his trousers to have a fight with his ankles.

A fight his ankles quite clearly lost.

Despite the reputation of my home county, he was a well presented man who was only faintly rough around the edges.

"My father paid you for this long trip, correct?"

He grinned at me with yellowed teeth whilst climbing down from his spot in the carriage, once his feet hit the ground he made a few exaggerated movements to ease his tense muscles and stretch his limbs.

"He did, don't you worry 'bout it."

In a few swift movements he'd pulled my bags out of the carriage and set them to one side, I noticed his dark eyes briefly flickering towards the manor as an uneasy look flashed across his face.

"You'll be all alone here, 'mam."

"I'm fully aware, but I shall be fine thank you," I smiled at my friendly, though kind of peculiar looking driver.

"You're aware of what happened here, ain't chya?"

"I can safely say I am."

"Ya still wanna risk it?"

"I do."

"Bit mental if ya ask me."

"There's a certain appeal to a house with history, much like Lizzie Borden's home I'm sure."

"Horrible case that, you think she done it?"

"I'm not entirely certain what I think," I laughed faintly whilst picking up my belongings, two bags in either hand. "Thank you for bringing me here, but I can take care of things from this point."

He put his hands on his hips and looked back at the manor, letting out a low whistle.

"Ya sure ya don't want me to stay?"

"It'd be fairly uncouth for me to invite in a near stranger, besides you should leave whilst you still have some light."

There was a brief pause before he shrugged and climbed back onto the carriage, wiggling his hips a little until he'd found a position he was comfortable in.

"Sure you'll be alright?"

"Positive, I have people coming in a few days to check the roof for further damage," I nodded as I speak, thinking of the repair that my father had already paid to be done before I arrived.

Something about seeing to the base of the house as it was sinking into a red clay like substance.

This was apparently how it'd earned its nickname of Crimson Peak, a name I found oddly fascinating.

"Right well, luck to ya," he tipped his hat.

I stepped back and watched as he maneuvered the carriage around and headed back down the path, giving me a farewell wave.

After returning the wave I took one last deep breath, my lungs filling with nippy autumn air that held the smell of clay, before heading to the front door.

Setting my bags down I take out a selection of keys, fumbling around until I found the right one to twist into the lock.

With a clunk the doors swung open to invite me to my new home in Allerdale Hall.


	2. Chapter Two

Cluttered.

That was my initial reaction upon entering the main hall.

Cluttered and dreary.

Although the main hallway was large and open and wasn't covered in possessions there was still this enclosed feeling when you glanced around, this was mostly due to the balconies that protruded from the walls.

Dark wood carved with intricate designs made the balconies more appealing, just above the staircase to my left there was a windowed area that would need to be explored further to know what lay behind it.

It astounded me that everything still seemed to be in place, no one had even attempted to remove any of the previous owner's belongings.

Even the portraits that decorated the walls as you went up the stairs still hung in place, at the bottom of the dark wood banister, tucked into the corner to my left, was a partially covered love seat and to my right on the other side of the curtained alter was a chair and mirror.

There was so much going on around me that it was almost claustrophobic, the dark colours not helping.

The dark browns, greys, dull yellows and faint dark blues made everything cave in.

Various golden decorations hanging from the ceiling didn't help with the enclosed vibe of the room, yet I still found the place so beautiful.

So much was hidden in shadows.

I set my bags down, which clunked and created an echo as they hit the floor, and stepped towards the center of the hallway.

My black boots scuffed against the dust that hadn't been cleaned up from previous damage.  
I remember my father telling me about a hole in the high roof that desperately needed mending, but according to sources and despite their clearly elaborate and lavish home, the Sharpe's were far from the rich people they could pass themselves off as.

I don't know much about the Sharpe's themselves, only of the odd happenings surrounding their deaths and Sir Sharpe's newly made widow.

Though many of my peers seemed surprised when I told them about my buying of Allerdale Hall, I could swear some glances had been exchanged yet no one said anything to deter me from moving there.

It wasn't until I entered the parlor that I realised just how much of the Sharpe's belongings would need to be sorted through.

There were portraits, a large piano, dirty looking jars and ornamental vases, partially used candles, pieces of papers and books scattered around that would need to be sorted through.

That wasn't even touching on the cabinets that would need to be opened and organised.

"This is going to feel uncomfortably intrusive," I sighed, my eyes scanning the area.

An unlit fireplace caught my gaze and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of warmth, it was getting late now that winter was coming close and the evenings were beginning to become a little crisp.

Allerdale Hall didn't seem to be the warmest of manors either, quite often drafts would blow through and send a chilled shudder down my spine.

Though that was no surprise considering the aforementioned hole that was still in the roof.

"Ad montes oculos levavi," I muttered softly, attempting to read the engraving on the fireplace, probably butchering the beautiful language in the meantime, "I have no idea what that means."

I let out a small laugh at my own idiocy and turned towards the piano that stood to my right, underneath a high set window.

The piano was grand but rustic and looked like an antique.

Despite not knowing how to play I had always enjoyed the smooth feel of the keys beneath my fingers when I was a child.

This is probably why I couldn't help but smile childishly and laugh at myself whilst gently pressing down on one of the white keys, letting the low note rumble around the room.

A wave of dust wafted into the air as I flopped onto the piano stool, causing me to cough as it gathered in my nose and the back of my throat. Something I probably should have anticipated considering the lack of use and how long it had been sat here, unused and forgotten.

Once the dust had settled again and I could breathe without worrying about having another coughing fit, I sat up straight with my shoulders pulled back and head held high. My hands poised over the keys as I introduced myself and my new 'revolutionary, one of a kind symphony', that I would now play for my imaginary audience.

In my head people watched in awe at the amazing melody that played, created by a novice no less. Though in reality, it was fair to say that the tune being plunked out by my clumsy and less than talented fingers was more like a stampede of horses trampling over uneven cobbles.

With my eyes closed and head tilted back, I soon lost myself in the imagined scene, almost forgetting that I wasn't in fact on a stage surrounded by adoring gazes.

It wasn't long before I was soon shoved back into reality by a harsh wind that seemed to slam against my right side, colder than any other gust I'd felt in the manor so far.

Goosebumps rose on my skin beneath my thick dress and I let out a small gasp, opening my eyes as I was pulled into the parlor once again.

With the force that the wind hit me, I could have sworn that someone had brushed past me.

Albeit rather forcefully.

Yet the only thing that caught my attention, and made me jump upon sight no less, was a rather ghastly looking portrait that was hanging on the wall above a cabinet to my right.

An older woman with white hair in a dark dress, holding a cane glared down at me, despite it only being a painting there was still a very intimidating feel to it.

"I'm sorry," I spoke to the portrait whilst standing up, "I didn't know my playing was that bad."

Without sparing another glance at the portrait I leave the parlor through the archway, back to the main hall, feeling foolish at having just spoken to a painting of a woman I didn't even know.

My hand rubbed the top of my shoulder that was already beginning to feel oddly bruised, the rubbing of my fingers only making it worse but feeling like a necessity, as if to reassure myself that it had indeed happened.

The pain confirmed my worries, yet part of me still didn't want to believe it.

Perhaps a large draft had picked something up that hit my arm, that seemed more plausible than 'the wind did it'.

"Maybe I just need a proper nights sleep," I mumbled to thin air.

Retrieving my bags from the main hall, I used the remaining light of the evening to make my way up the large staircase to find a room to sleep in for the night.

If it wasn't the master bedroom then I'd use the afternoon tomorrow to find where that was and transfer my things, but for now I just wanted a soft bed where I could wrap up warm and lie down.


	3. Chapter Three

“I am not ready for this.”

My heart sank as I saw the state the kitchen was in, this was the last thing I wanted to see first thing in the morning.

After a great nights sleep, although finding a non-dusty cover to wrap up in was as difficult as I expected considering how long things had been left, I had woken up with a dry throat and was dying for a cup of tea.

However, looking at the state of my new kitchen completely put me off even the thought of drinking water from the taps, let alone using any of the left kitchen equipment.

It wasn’t just the pots and dishes that still littered not only the top of the stove but also the kitchen table, it was the floor.

No matter where you looked there was something covering the surface, dirt, debris and all kinds of crumbs coated the floor and made even one step crunch under my foot.

Past the table on the left hand side was a small wash area, resting against the nearest corner was a round table with a knife still resting on top. Beside this cutting table was a small box that still had wilting wheat inside, that was no doubt attracting some form of living being I wanted no encounter with.

What worried me more was the large, silver globe that stood in the centre of the main eating table.

“I think I’ll just throw that out,” I sigh to myself. “After finding some iron gloves.”  
I tiptoe my way around the room, watching out for any signs of infestations of insects or rats, and take in all the details I’d need to consider whilst tidying.

It was worrying to think that the sturdiest looking thing in the room was a wooden cabinet that I suspect housed the Sharpe’s cutlery, this conclusion only dawned on me when I noticed that anything else I’d expect to find in a kitchen was clearly on display, the cutlery seemed to be the only thing tucked away somewhere, and even they were probably rendered unusable in some way.

I couldn’t blame them, I didn’t know their state of living when they were alive and the house had been abandoned long term for just over a year, I had no way of knowing how much of this was leftover from my father’s hired builders.

Surely they had used the kitchen during their breaks, it seems rather rude that they didn’t even bother to tidy up after themselves.

Although part of me couldn’t blame the work men entirely, something told me that some of the dirt was old enough to have been around when the Sharpe’s were alive, but thinking of them living in a faintly dirty manner made me feel guilty for thinking a little insultingly of the dead.

“You have no evidence to back that up,” I scolded myself as I moved around the room to find anything to clean with. “Yes, it seems cluttered and very dark here, but it doesn’t mean they were willing to let their home go untidy.”

It only took a few minutes of searching, and mentally reprimanding myself, for me to find a scrubbing brush, some rags and an empty bucket.

Carrying the bucket over to the sink, I set it, the brush and the rags on top of the dinner table and put the bucket underneath the faucet and turn it on. Nothing happened at first, not that I exactly anticipated it to be honest and I was preparing to turn it off again when a loud sound of jittering pipes filled the silence.

Without warning a flurry of thick red came spitting out of the faucet, causing me to jump back to try and save myself, rather in vain, from getting hit with what must have been clay residue.

I had been informed that the most they could attempt to do was level the house somewhat, there was no removing the red clay. Something about it not being their jurisdiction.

Tipping out the reddened water from the bucket, I wait for the spurt to turn clear before rinsing the rest and filling the bucket to the brim.

With a grunt of effort I heave the bucket out of the sink and set it on the floor, there was already a broom next to the cabinet so I grabbed that and swept up anything littering the floor to one corner in the kitchen.

Taking the rags, which were only slightly stained white pieces of ripped cloth, off the table, I set them in the furthest corner of the kitchen and pulled up the skirt to my nightdress.

Kneeling down on the rags, I pulled the bucket closer and dipped the brush inside. Once the bristles were coated in a way I felt was perfect I then hunched my back over and began to scrub at the floor.

I was barely five scrubs in and the water was already a horrible dark brown, almost black colour. A pungent smell was already coming up as the water sloshed a little, not that it was surprising considering the amount of treading and muck floors get over time.

Once I’d gotten an area clean to my liking, I grabbed another cloth from the top of the table and wiped up the excess bits of water.

And this is how it carried on, me on my knees, scrubbing the floor in a way I’d never done before.

Apart from the sloshing of water, scuffing of rags and scrubbing of a brush the house was silent, it was an eerie yet content feeling. It had been so long since I’d had proper silence and in Allerdale Hall I had complete silence in abundance.

It felt like hours had passed by the time I reached the end of the table closest to the door, my arms ached from scrubbing and my back hurt from being hunched over, yet I wasn’t even halfway through the room.

It felt like I’d barely done a quarter and I hadn’t even pulled out the table, chairs and other bits to get underneath yet.

I let go of the brush and kneel up, groaning a little as my muscles break from their newly accustomed position.

“I should have washed the cutlery and dishes first,” I pout to myself, now feeling the need for that tea I had intended to make what could have been hours ago.

With slight strain I get up off the floor, my knees and thighs aching as they stretched out, the ease of tension being such a relief. Once the blood has rushed back through my legs and the tingling had disappeared, I shuffled to the cupboards to scour through and find something to make a drink.

With the exception of my light panting, the manor fell silent once more as the sounds of bristle scraping across the floor halted. Though it didn’t last long as I started scavenging around for something I could use to make my drink, hopefully without poisoning myself by accident.

Pots, pans and plates clattered together as I moved things around, searching for a semi decent cup to use, the noise crashing straight through my head due to the lack of other sounds to drown it out.

I must have only been about half a minute into my search before a large clanking sound from somewhere behind me made me jump, the sound of old screeching metal piercing my ears.

My heart thumped rapidly in my chest as I rushed towards the source of the sound.  
It was the large, black metal lift I’d passed so many times today with barely a glance, the gate was pulled shut and the manor filled with jittering mechanical noises as the gears began to squeak.

I felt my blood run cold as I watched the lift slowly move up into a darkness I hadn’t explored yet.

There was no one inside the manor besides myself and I couldn’t see anyone inside to work the system.

So how on earth had it turned on?

And where exactly was it going?


	4. Chapter Four

I hadn’t gathered the nerve to investigate the lift further, every time I thought back to its activation a cold shiver ran down my spine.

Instead I returned back to the kitchen to continue cleaning, just something to take my mind off of things. The monotonous action seemed to work as I focused more on scrubbing up stains than self activating machinery.

Once the floors were finished I set to work on the various pots and items scattered around the hectic room, scrubbing the dear life out of them as a means to distract myself.

But now that’s done and as I sit at the kitchen table, hands around a cup of hot water just to keep them warm, my mind has started reeling again in worry.

A loud and obnoxious argument with myself was echoing in my brain, one half of me saying I should go and investigate while the other said that it wasn’t worth the risk.

“The workmen are coming in a few days, at least investigate whilst they’re here.”

“But you’ll probably chicken out then too.”

“It would also make sense to in the long run, if there was a shortage or a rat gnawed through something they could have a look.”

I sigh and drop my head down towards the table, taking a few deep breaths while closing my eyes to stave off the impending headache I could feel growing behind my eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” I finally admit out loud to myself.

Lifting my head again, I take a small sip of the warm water before getting out of my seat and tipping the rest into the sink.

Looking out of the grimy windows I noted that it seemed to already be getting dark, it had taken me hours to fully scrub the kitchen to my liking and I was completely drained.

My arms ached and my head was hurting, that was all I needed to call it a day and get some rest. Deciding to start again early in the morning I slowly make my way to the main hallway, my eyes darting towards the lift shaft as I passed it, another chill running down my spine.

Forcing my eyes away from the contraption I head to the dark corridor that led to the bedrooms, at least I assumed they were all bedrooms behind these doors. There were so many doors in this place that I had no clue what was hidden behind each, I was partly anticipating that bit.

Though I did worry a little about the clutter I could possibly find in them too, the thought of more tidying was enough to put me off adventuring further for the time being.

Seeing as it was still early, I decided to use this time to find the master bedroom before it got too dark.

Turning into the dark hallway, which seemed to have a constant beautiful blue tint to it, I prepare to go door to door in search of the room I will call my own.

The hallway was long with amazing dark wood, detailed arches decorating the ceiling and splitting the wall into two. The top half was blank with lanterns here and there mostly to my right, the bottom half was wallpapered with a dank moth design that was eerily pretty.

Then again, I did always have a special place in my heart for moths.

A lot of the wallpaper seemed to be peeling off in places and I hoped there was some way to salvage it, the moth design was such a unique look that I didn’t want to have to remove it in the slightest.

“Perhaps one of the coming workmen will have something,” I mumble to myself whilst making my way to the first door.

The cold metal of the door handle burnt my hand a tiny bit, somehow it felt abnormally cold even for this unheated manor.

As I turn the handle I feel the metal clink and refuse to move further.

Locked.

I sigh and move to the next door down the hallway, taking note of each door I found that would need me to search through the large ring of keys I’d been handed by my father.

Most of the doors I tried had been locked, the few that opened led to rooms with minimal decorations inside. Some had bookshelves, peeling wallpaper and rust covered pipes along the walls.

Some were just empty, dusty and torn curtains covered the windows to stop any light coming through.

I wasted a good thirty minutes or so searching for unlocked room and taking mental notes of each room that would need to be revisited. Eventually they all would for redecoration, but for now my focus would be on the ones I couldn’t access immediately.

I’d lost count of how many rooms I’d checked by the time I found what I presumed to be the master bedroom.

“Finally,” I smile to myself whilst stepping inside.

The room was large and had a surprising amount of light shining in through windows to the left, they were mainly covered by tattered net curtains with gorgeous velvet looking curtains hanging above the main frames.

Aside from the parlour this room had to have had the most natural light inside, even the hallway containing the many locked doors only had one window at the end, partially covered by a large, thick curtain.

The room looked as dusty as the others and as abruptly abandoned.

Two chairs sat in skewed positions from the table that sat in front of the largest window which provided a view out into the seemingly endless horizon outside, various objects decorated the table, including a series of books and ink wells.

Aside the table was a slightly taller one, stood on top was a candelabra waiting to be lit.

Above the table hung a small chandelier and beneath sat an old rug.

In the corner of the room near the smaller window was a dressers, at least I assumed it was a dresser, though the chair sitting beneath it made me suspect it was possibly a desk compartment hidden behind the intricately designed doors. This too had candles sat on top.

Walking over to the bed, I gently patted my hand against the duvet which brought up a large dust cloud. Waving my hand in front of my face I try to clear the dust to stop myself from sputtering as my nose itched.

“I’ll need to wash those before I even consider using this bed.”

My eyes ran over the large, wooden headboard that loomed over the bed with a set of curtains attached to each side. From where I stood I could see the dust gathered in the crooks of the material, part of me dreaded the prospect of finding some well nestled spider families inside as well.

“Guess those will need washing too.”

To my right was a doorway that led to a murky looking bathroom, on one of the walls to the left of the doorway was an old portrait that was layered in dust so thick that I couldn’t see what was behind the glass.

“So much for sleeping in here tonight,” I laugh.

Stepping into the bathroom I survey my surroundings.

The floor tiles needed some serious cleaning, they appeared to be covered in a yellowish grime. Though part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it was possibly just the design of the tiles themselves.

The bathtub itself was grubby, but looked like it could be a shining, brand new white with a good scrub.

On either side of the bath, standing about a foot before the step leading up to the tub, stood two large candle holders. One standing tall with its own stand whilst the other to my left was sitting atop a hip high table.

To my right was another, partially covered chair and to my left a small table which held small, semi used toiletries.

An odd pattern decorated half the walls and across the ceiling.

A small slither of light came in from a circular window just above the bath.

I move over to the table and lean down to have a look at the limited toiletries that were resting on top of the table, unsurprisingly covered in dust.

Up close some of them appeared to have gone off, small amounts of mould gathering on top of soap that had probably become hard enough to be used as a candle.

As I pick up the bottles I could see the ring it left beneath on the table, a morbidly curious part of me dared myself to open the lid and smell inside.

With a faint laugh aimed at no one I begin to pluck at the topper of the glass bottle, my fingers pressing against the chilled material.

From the bedroom came a loud thump that interrupted the silence I had surrounding me.

I let out a small yelp and almost slam the bottle back down, with my heart slamming in my chest I turn back around to inspect the room.

I half expected to see someone stood there, staring me down with intimidation, instead I saw nothing but a dust cloud settling just on the side of the bed furthest from me.

Adrenaline rushed through me and my heart was in my throat as I slowly made my way back to the bedroom, I still half expected someone to jump out behind me which put me further on edge.

Slowly, I peered around the edge of the bed, my heart still hammering in my chest.

A sigh of relief that seemed beyond my control escaped my throat as I saw a book lying on the ground, a quick glance around the room confirming that I was too on edge since the metal lift incident.

“I must have bumped it with my hip whist looking around,” I mutter, glancing down at my admittedly most prominent feature.

Child bearing hips as they’ve been referred to in the past, and knocking things with them tended to be an unbreakable habit of mine.

Crouching down I pick up the book, my fingers running down the creased spine of the leather as my eyes inspect the dark brown material for a title.

Not finding one I decide to flip through it to observe the content, and much to my amazement I see intricate designs of various cogs, chains and wheels. Each had details in beautiful writing to explain the function and need for the parts.

The book was full to the brim of these clearly self drawn illustrations.

The beginning was more for each individual piece of equipment and its use before slowly, towards the centre of the book the pieces began to fix together in a plan.

A blueprint for the grand, yet rusted machine I had seen outside upon my arrival.

I didn’t have to understand the complexity of the machinery to know beautifully drawn blue prints and illustrations.

A form of admiration swelled in my chest, to see such a craft with my own eyes.

I continued to flip through, my eyes dancing over the details of the pictures.

One page nearer the back of the book caught my fascination.

This page wasn’t of machinery, but a portrait of a woman I had seen in the newspapers back home on a number of occasions over the past few years.

The woman who I only knew to be Sir Sharpe’s widow, Edith Cushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember writing this chapter a year ago and loving the thought of the mentioned book at the end...then a few chapters later I kind of paused and had a; "Hang on, I don't think he actually had a book like that," moment.  
> But I love the idea of it and this tiny, little added bit of talent was oddly endearing to me and I think it still fit in well enough for Sir Sharpe to have a book of blueprints and the life, so I left it...so I hope my lack of canon remembering didn't throw anyone off!


	5. Chapter Five

That night was cold in Allerdale Hall, a chilling breeze even managed to seep underneath the duvet I was wrapped up in.

Curling up and tucking my legs in, I try to conserve as much heat as I can, but it’s just not working tonight.

Sleep wasn’t coming to me as I shivered in bed.

There was a part of me that was saying, repeatedly, that it was pointless for me to just lie in bed if I couldn’t drift off, perhaps I should find something to do to whittle away some time and energy.

But on the other hand, it was cold enough underneath the duvet and the thought of being even colder outside of it caused me to be hesitant in any decision to leave.  
Instead I stayed curled up in bed, planning on where to start with cleaning the master bedroom.

“Hopefully it’s warmer in there,” I mumble to myself.

Despite not being able to see far into the darkness of the undecorated room, I find myself staring towards the doorway, unblinking.

I was still getting used to the sounds of the house settling, with the manor being so large and empty everything seemed amplified and even the smallest sound felt like it echoed, though I was certain that was all in my imagination.

Some sounds caused my heart to stop at times, sometimes it sounded like floorboards were creaking as they were stepped on and sometimes there seemed to be the sound of a woman’s voice coming from within one of the many empty rooms.

I tried to rationally explain everything to reassure myself, but sometimes that proved difficult, especially after the incident with the lift.

A small bit of warmth began gathering around my toes as I curled up, the duvet tucking me in tightly. A sense of comfort finally washed over me, a feeling I hadn’t really felt since I set foot in Allerdale Hall.

I loved the place, without a single doubt in my mind, yet so far it hadn’t felt like my own home. Yes, I owned the place and it was rightfully my manor, but up to this point, with everything still standing in its place not being my own decoration, I still felt like I was a guest in the Sharpe’s home.

A guest of two people I had never met before purchasing the building.

“Such an odd thought,” I snicker faintly, almost being cut off by a yawn that arose unexpectedly.

Finally, it seemed sleep was going to embrace me.

As I snuggled further into the bed I could feel my eyes beginning to get heavy as more heat seeped into my chilled bones, much to my relief.

Unfortunately, just as my mind began to fade into its own little daze, a series of familiar, yet unexplainable, noises roused me from my dozing.

I could hear the clattering of crockery that I could only assume was coming from the kitchen, the sound of cutlery clanking against a delicate surface.

My blood runs cold and chills me once again as I lie perfectly still and listen to the noises, my mind trying to figure out some logical explanation as to why I’d be hearing such things in the dead of night when I’m alone in the house.

A variety of images jump through my head, the one conjured up the most was of someone who had broken into the manor.

It certainly looked fairly lavish from the outside, large enough to have been owned by a rich family, but it was so far from any other civilisation.

Perhaps it was someone on the run from the law?

Maybe someone from a nearby village who was wanted locally for committing various crimes, robbery possibly being one of them, and now they were fleeing.

Had they just happened to wander far enough to find Allerdale Hall?

But that would take someone hours at best, especially if they had arrived on foot, presuming they had indeed been on foot and hadn’t stolen a carriage or just a horse.

Could they have broken in thinking that there was something worth stealing?

During my search I can’t say I had found anything that seemed even remotely valuable, at least not enough to sell, it was mostly things of emotional value to two people who were no longer with us.

“Don’t be ridiculous, it sounds more like someone is making food.”

Another shudder runs through me as another clink comes from downstairs, the sound of stirring in a porcelain cup.

“No one would break in just for sustenance in a place known to be abandoned for years, surely,” I weakly argue, trying to calm myself. “No one beyond who Mother and Father would have told knows I’m here anyway and they are over a days travel away.”

That wasn’t to say no one had already been travelling for hours throughout the previous day, enough to find the long path leading up to the manor.

I shut off my brain from pushing the thought forward and curl up further. Pulling the duvet over my head, I clench my eyes shut tightly and try to distract myself.

I didn’t particularly wish to go downstairs and confront whoever was down there, while I was no coward I certainly didn’t like the thought of confrontation.

Especially in a house I barely knew myself.

Taking a few deep breaths I try to stabilize my breathing, which had somehow become short and shaky pants as my chest tightened without my noticing.

I stay covered completely in my bed, listening to the sounds continue for a few minutes before they eventually die down. I half expected to hear more rustling move through the rooms downstairs as someone searched for anything they could take, perhaps sounds of drawers banging and items clattering to the floor.

But there was nothing.

Silence had once again fallen over the manor, but this time it felt uncomfortable and I again found myself unable to fall back to sleep.

Time felt like it passed slowly as I lay in bed, staying curled up as tightly as I can as if it would protect me from whoever was invading my home.

As long as I heard nothing and the silence wasn’t broken, I was safe as far as I was concerned. Though that didn’t push my confidence to a point of crawling out of bed to investigate.

Instead I rolled over in my cocoon to face the opposite wall, my legs pulled up to my chest as my heart continued to race.

The new aura in the quiet room felt like it was choking me and nothing was easing the tightness of my chest.

A chill in the air returned and seeped through the duvet once again, as I took a short breath I was certain I saw a short puff of white mist briefly within the dark.

Another shudder ran down my spine as a sound I feared hearing entered the room, behind me I could hear footsteps that seemed to slowly make their way towards the bed.

I held my breath and closed my eyes tightly once again, hoping to keep as still as possible so that maybe they’d see nothing within the darkness and would leave immediately.

Not seeing them was also an advantage on my part, I oddly feared what I may see, though I suspected it was just another person some part of me believed otherwise for no logical reason.

The side of the bed behind me sank and I felt myself shift closer to the opposite side that I was trying to escape from, my rear dipping a little and yet not making contact with whoever was causing the slight alteration on the mattress.

It had to be someone lithe, as the imprint wasn’t anything substantial enough to cause anything but a very minor incline.

Perhaps the person who was invading my home had leant down to inspect the covered lump on the bed, leaning lightly on their arms as they investigate whether it was something worth worrying over and needed to be dealt with.

Small tears of fear pricked at my eyes.

I’d never been put in a situation like this before and I honestly had no idea what I was supposed to do. A small whimper escaped my throat beyond my control and I mentally cursed myself whilst covering my mouth with my hands, trying to hold in the torrent that wanted to burst out now one had slipped.

A tear slowly ran down my cheek and instantly caused a small line of cold as the chilly wind within the room hit the wet streak.

This was it.

They were going to dispose of me in my first home away from my parents.

Father would be so disappointed.

Mother would be distraught.

My brothers devastated that they weren’t here to help.

My mind began jumping through the things I had last said to the people I loved and cared about, thankfully most being words of love and encouragement, not that that stopped me worrying about leaving a negative impression before my leave.

Something I couldn’t rectify once I passed.

Another soft sob ruptured the silence in the room.

My heart stops in my chest as I feel something gently lay on the top of my head, just above my right ear.

A hand, I was certain.

There was this strange, but instant calm that washed over me at the contact.

Before I had been so certain that they came with the intent to harm me, yet they lay such a gentle and soothing touch that my sobbing almost instantly stopped and I could breathe again.

I could feel movement within my tangled hair, which I could only guess was from one of their fingers or their thumb rubbing through the strands against my scalp.

The soothing was instant and my chest loosened, though my eyes now seemed to grow heavy once again.

The fear had disappeared so quickly it was almost as if it had never been there at all.

Fighting the urge to sleep, I finally felt calm enough to face whoever was here, a sudden peak of courage surging through me.

Ever so slowly I began to roll onto my back, trying to make my eyes stay open long enough to adjust to the darkness. Just for a moment to catch the faintest glimpse at who it could be, not that I expected to recognise them at all.

Yet what I was greeted by only caused the goose bumps to rise once more.

There was still a dip in the bed by my side.

The soothing touch had only just left as I moved, ever so gently, onto my back.

And yet I was greeted with nothing behind me, but still air and more darkness.


	6. Chapter Six

The rest of the night had been entirely restless, my mind was racing too much after all the occurrences to settle down and allow sleep to come.

It had only been two nights, how could I have become this paranoid?

I tried to rationalise my thoughts time and time again, convince myself that it was all in my head due to the house looking rather spooky by design and the stories I had been told were adding an extra impression.

Yet somehow it didn't convince me in the slightest.

It was around sunrise that I decided to get out of bed, believing there to be no point in me staying in bed if sleep wasn't returning to me.

The hand holding the candelabra shook as I carried it down the dark hallway, but I couldn't tell if it was from the constant draft in the house or fear for what may occur next.

The rational part of my brain was telling me to leave the house and never return, but Father had spent so much money already, what with buying it and beginning the touch ups, that I would feel guilty if I told him I had ditched my first real home because of some bumps in the road.

He'd understand, Father isn't a cruel person, but I'd feel ashamed and disappointed in myself if I wasted the money he'd spent on this place.

The slow walk to the kitchen did nothing to calm my rattled nerves, in fact they seemed to get worse the closer I got.

Reluctantly, I poked my head around the door frame and surveyed the kitchen beyond.

Nothing appeared to be damaged or knocked over, in fact nothing really seemed to be out of place in the slightest.

Despite the lack of evidence of anyone having been in there the previous night, I still stepped into the room with caution. My eyes constantly scanning for any signs of an intruder or animal, anything to justify what I'd heard and settle my nerves.

Something had to have been here last night, those noises and the presence I had felt couldn't have just been the house settling, that was impossible.

Surely it was.

Logic dictated that a house this large would make all kind of noises, but could it really produce something that vivid and specific?

Then again, it was only my second night in the manor and the kitchen's self activating lift had rattled me fairly hard, maybe these were just normal sounds for Allerdale Hall to make and I was letting my imagination get the better of me.

Besides, it had all happened during the night and most things seem strange and scary in the dark, especially in a house you were still wholly unfamiliar with.

Although that wouldn't explain what I had felt as well.

A jolt of pain coursed through my hip as I absentmindedly bumped into the table corner, far too lost in my thoughts to take notice of my still fully unacquainted surroundings.

I let out a soft hiss and take a step back, rubbing the aching area gently, I could already feel a bruise rising on my skin as my fingers grazed the spot.

Through my inner self cursing my own ignorance, it took me a moment to take note of the additional sound that accompanied the light table jostle.

The small rattle of porcelain.

My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes trailed to the cup, a flat and wide tea cup on top of a saucer with matching intricate decoration.

I knew for certain that that cup had nothing to do with me.

During my sorting the other day I hadn't come across crockery with such a ghastly, dark red design. Though it fit in well with the rest of the houses mismatched decoration, something felt off about the items.

Yet it wasn't the fact that the crockery has just appeared either, something in my gut dropped as I stared at the offending objects.

How could the fact a full cup of tea appeared overnight not be the most ominous thing about it?

An unpleasant shiver ran down my spine, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from the cup. My mind once again racing with a million thoughts all at once, causing a dull pain to rise around my temples and behind my eyes.

And yet, I found myself strangely drawn to it and I soon began reaching for the offered drink.

Somehow this felt beyond my control and I couldn't stop myself despite being aware of my actions.

My fingers delicately wrapped around the thin handle and I was surprised to find that the porcelain was still warm, as if the drink had only just been prepared for when I woke.

The saucer clattered a little as I lifted the cup away, the tea spoon which sat beside it slipping further into the center. My other hand secured the bottom of the cup with the palm as I lifted it towards my lips, seemingly in delayed motions as if to savour the moment.

The steam rising from the hot tea had a uniquely powerful scent to it, one that seemed to help me realise just how parched I had become. My throat had suddenly gone dry and scratchy and despite me not having an appetite mere minutes earlier, I now had an overwhelming need to drink.

Just a small sip should help me quench this thirst.

The cup was mere inches away from my lips when I felt my arm halt its movements, a feeling of ice cold wrapped around my wrist as if a clamp had been placed upon it.

I frowned and gently jostled my arm whilst trying not to spill the contents of the cup with the movement, the pressure on my skin felt as if it was getting tighter and then I noticed strange white imprints of fingers appearing on my skin.

A small gust of air brushed through my hair and ghosted past my ear, almost like someone's breath had moved the strands and before I could register anything further my arm jolted violently, as if someone else was shaking it to make the tea cup slip from my grasp.

As it crashed to the floor, I felt splinters of smashed china brush against my dress and I could only watch as the once contained tea slowly creeps along the floor, seeping into the material of the skirt around my feet.

For a short moment I found myself staring at the broken cup and splattered tea before being shaken from my reverie, my eyes flickering to the wrist which felt like it had been grasped so tightly.

It was undeniable that there were white pressure marks which now had begun to turn red, the print having the appearance of a hand with long fingers encircling my wrist.

The sides of my wrist had a dull, pulsating ache, typical of constrained contact.

Tears pricked at my eyes as my chest tightened painfully once again, reminiscent of how it had been last night.

"Father," I gasped brokenly to the empty air around me, "I don't like Allerdale Hall anymore."


	7. Chapter Seven

Going about my goal of tidying the master bedroom was all that kept me from breaking down and weeping continuously, occasionally my throat would tighten and ache making breathing a little difficult. At those times I'd have to stop, using a few minutes to take a break and recollect myself.

On most breaks I found myself leaning on the balcony that looked over the main hall from the master suite, my eyes roaming the hall as I took deep breaths to control myself.

When this happened I had to find something to distract my mind, the usual thought to help with this being about how unusually set up the manor was.

A balcony in the bedroom overlooking the main entrance seemed off and impractical to me and yet it fit into Allerdale's aesthetic so well.

A strange design for a strange place.

As the sun finally disappeared and all the candelabras were ready with flames for the night, the room was at what I can only imagine was its former glory.

Though the room was still dark, the place looked more welcoming and much less cluttered. The dust had added such a dreary atmosphere before, but now it was cleared and everything was more organised I felt more at home.

Though it didn't fully halt my apprehension of staying another night here.

I flopped onto the freshly made bed rather inelegantly and let out a loud, semi satisfied groan.

Every inch of me ached, but it was completely worth it to have a room I could call my own in what still felt like someone else's house.

All the unneeded items that belonged to the previous occupant had been stashed away in the cupboard nearest the window, some of my own items, ones I had managed to fit into my travel bag as the others were packed in boxes I was still waiting to arrive, took up space at the small writing desk.

I led on the bed and stared at the ceiling, starving but too tired to get up and make anything.

Though I was also too anxious to go down into the kitchen, not after what happened mere hours earlier that had shaken me to the core.

It was times like this when I wished that I still had my handmaiden, although at home I despised the thought of the lower class being seen as less than us and only good for serving the upper classes, sometimes you just miss the privilege.

At least Father paid ours well, he has always been a kind and perhaps overly generous man, always putting others before himself.

From what Father told me, the Sharpe's were of a lower class though you'd have to have looked at the details to tell. The lavish house was more a prison as they struggled with money and getting Thomas' machine up and running, let alone usable for mass production.

The stories I had been told, which were admittedly very few, made me feel faintly sorry for them.

A brother and sister, left alone in a large house after their mother had passed.

Stuck in the middle of nowhere with hardly any money and a manor that was either falling apart or gradually sinking, that should be a life for none but the worst criminals of society.

But it's no wonder they didn't have handmaidens to keep this place up to standard if they couldn't afford to feed themselves properly.

"They must have been so fragile."

It was then that I recalled the retelling of Edith's story, of how Lady Lucille had effectively gone a little loopy and killed her brother before trying to murder Miss Cushing.

"Or maybe not."

I scowled a little and shook my head, glaring towards the ceiling.

"You've heard so many stories, it's not fair for you to judge and presume," I reprimanded myself, "just as you don't know of their living and food habits."

Despite the fact I'd only based my opinion on logic and scattered stories, I still felt a bubble of unwelcome guilt in my chest for thinking negatively about the dead.

Although I was the one telling myself off, I still found myself letting out a childish huff at being put in my place.

I sat up on my newly assigned bed and brushed a bit of my hair away from my face, setting my booted feet on the floor, I stood up and dusted my dress off. Placing my hands on my hips, I took another glance around the room and smiled triumphantly, another job well done.

"Only another one hundred or so to go," I laughed halfheartedly, "if I can even cope with staying here long enough to get to the others."

My heart jolted at the thought, torn about being too cowardly to even consider staying despite everything my parents had gone through to buy me this manor.

The workmen were still due to arrive and, presuming they were traveling to the North West from the South West as I had, it seemed unfair to put their time and efforts to waste. Whether Father had paid them already or not didn't matter, I felt that to up and leave before work could continue would be a disservice to them and my family.

"You're a big girl," I encouraged myself, "Mother and Father are paying to do this house up just for you, so don't be selfish and throw that back in their faces."

I nodded with grim determination and strode out of the room, taking one of the lit candelabras off the writing desk as I briskly walked past.

The house was not going to best me.

I'd already been reduced to panic and tears, which was ridiculously uncharacteristic for me, all over a few odd mishaps.

That would be the last bout of panic Allerdale would see from me.

Mere hours ago I had intended to clear the table in the master bedroom and write a letter of apology and begging to my parents, not daring to spend anymore time on the ground floor near that kitchen.

All the time of cleaning and thinking over what I'd write in the letter had me wishing that one of those fancy telephones I had read about once were available to the masses, so I could hastily contact my home and pray for them to take me back much faster than any letter could do.

I desperately longed for transportation to be easier and for the post office to be closer so I could go back to Wiltshire, back to my family and safety.

Distracting myself with tidying had worked wonders in helping me calm down, although it wasn't my original intention to tidy and rearrange the entire room.

A new, and vaguely grim, determination swelled in my chest as I headed back down the stairs as swiftly as I could, aiming for the kitchen I'd tried to avoid until hunger became too much to bear.

I was not going to let the things in Allerdale Hall scare me off.

I was not going to be a coward.


	8. Chapter Eight

A few days had past since the incident in the kitchen.

Thankfully, aside from a few peculiar noises around the house, nothing as prominent as the kitchen incident occurred again.

Over the days I had busied myself with tidying up more bedrooms and preparing for the workmen's arrival, it was a thankful distraction that kept my mind occupied and stopped my thoughts straying to previous events.

Time slipped by quickly as I worked to keep myself distracted and before I knew it the men had shown up to continue their stalled work on the rest of the roof before eventually moving on to patching up the rest of the manor.

The sound of wheels rattling down the bumpy path is what alerted me to their arrival early in the morning, I had barely settled myself with a drink at the time but the sound of something other than bumps and groans from the house caused my heart to race and I had to immediately detect the source of the sound.

Gathering up my shawl, I hastily made my way outside and looked down the long trail leading up to the manor.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself, the thin material of the shawl doing little to protect me from the bitter wind.

The large doors behind me slammed open and closed as the wind managed to catch them, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the background of the still empty feeling house.

Several carriages and wagons rattled their way down the red road, most of the contents looking close to falling off.

How they had made it this far without losing everything was a mystery.

The sudden arrival of other life felt so surreal, watching the line of carriages pull up and come to a stop felt like some kind of strange dream.

Once the two carriages came to a stand still, the workmen eagerly jumped out and began to unpack materials and tools without hesitation.

I hardly had a chance to greet any of them.

I watched in mild bemusement as they passed by, carrying all kinds of equipment on their shoulders. Men of all shapes and sizes walk past, offering me either a nod or a grunt in greeting before stepping past and going around to the back of the manor.

Another more portly looking man approached me, a friendly smile putting me at ease as he came to a stop.

"Mornin'," he grinned cheerily, extending a gloved hand to me. "I'm David, I'm the supervisor for this project."

I returned his smile and took his hand, shaking it delicately which only seemed to make him laugh.

"The arm won't break, my girl."

I couldn't help but to laugh with him, his humour and laughter being contagious, especially after spending so many days alone.

"So, me and the boys are just going to set up, is there anywhere to keep the supplies?"

"Oh, yes," I nodded, turning towards the left side of the manor. "There's a small brick fixture over there, I'm not sure what's in it but I'm sure you can use that for storage."

David smiled and thanked me, barking an order for the men to move the things to the allocated storage area.

A light grunt and a scuffle sounded behind him, the tink of a chain lead being fiddled with followed soon after.

"Sir?" A soft yet gravely voice spoke. "Where do I put the dog?"

David rolled his eyes and turned to look over his shoulder, leaning a little to my right I attempted to see behind him as well.

A young man, I would estimate to be between his late twenties to early thirties, stood just beside one of the carriages, his figure stooped over as the mentioned dog, a beautiful German Shepherd, tugged on the lead that was wrapped securely around his hand.

"I told you to leave the blasted thing at home."

The man's blue eyes seemed to shift sadly as they turned down to the dog.

"But then she'd have been alone for who knows how long."

"Then leave it with family."

"But they live in Dorset, that would have doubled my travel time."

"Pardon my interruption," I spoke up, stepping forward until I'm stood beside David, "but she can stay inside with me."

"She can?" The younger man beamed, his eyes lighting up.

"Of course, I adore dogs."

"Great, thank you!"

He stepped forward, giving a gentle tug on the lead as the dog resisted a little, too busy sniffing along the ground to pay any attention to her owner.

"Her name is China, I promise that she's house trained and so well behaved, she's a cuddler too so if you're ever feeli-"

"Bert," the older man huffed gruffly, cutting off his ramblings.

I covered my mouth as I sniggered softly whilst the man, now dubbed Bert, pulled a face.

"I have mentioned before that it's Robert or Rob, I dislike that name."

"Well you act more like a damn Bert."

Leaving the two to their bickering, I crouched down as China sniffed at my skirts, her tail wagging in content.

"Aren't you gorgeous?" I cooed, ruffling her gorgeous fur which was a variety of shades of brown and black.

She busied herself with an inspecting sniff of my hand before succumbing to the joys of being stroked.

I looked towards the still bickering pair, David on an insult run as Robert stood there looking disheartened despite his attempts to laugh them off.

David finally scratched as his greying beard and shifted his weary eyes to the other workmen who were returning to gather more materials.

"Just get the damn thing sorted inside and get back to your work, a dog won't excuse any slacking."

"Of course, sir."

Robert nodded and watched his supervisor leave to attend to the others, with a defeated sigh he eventually looked down at me and offered a drained smile.

"Sorry about him, he doesn't understand."

"Not a pet owner?"

"That obvious?" He laughed.

"No true pet owner would allow another to leave a pet behind," I smiled whilst standing from my crouched position.

"Do you have pets of your own?"

"Had," my smile faded a little, "he passed shortly before my arrival here, a shepherd much like this one named Ben."

"Oh," Rob frowned, his blue eyes casting down to the floor. "I'm sorry, may he rest in peace."

"Thank you."

A small silence fell between us, he reached up and fiddled a little with his curly blond hair.

"Um...well, do you have a bowl or some food for her?"

His eyes snapped to me and all life comes back, an energetic smile replacing his previous solemn expression.

"Ah, yes!" He nodded enthusiastically, turning back to the carriage he had arrived in. "Do excuse my forgetfulness."

"No one was harmed by it," I laughed good naturedly.

I only heard a muffled chuckle in response as he climbed into the carriage once again, China once again occupying herself by sniffing around the side of the carriage as if in search for something.

A moment later, Robert returned holding two stacked metal bowls in one hand and carrying a large bag of what I could only presume held dog food under the other arm.

"Here we go," he grinned, jumping down from the small step.

"Wonderful," I smiled, reaching to take the bag.

Robert stepped back on one foot, almost as if he was being defensive, his other hand holding the bowls out to me.

"I can carry this," he smiled, seemingly a little sheepish, "it's a bit heavy."

"If you insist," I relented with barely a fight, though his haste startled me a little.

I took the offered bowls from him and turned back towards the manor, feeling a little conflicted about what had transpired.

Eventually I rationalised that he was just being gentlemanly and that his intention wasn't to appear rude or infer anything, he just didn't want to weigh a lady down.

"You are welcome to walk her in if you wish."

I looked at him a little wide eyed then smiled with an eager nod.

"I would love to."

Robert wasted no time in loosening the lead from around his wrist and passing the worn leather handle to me, I curled my fingers around the warm material and feel China tug on the lead as she took the lead towards the manor.

We entered the foyer, where I unclipped China's lead from her collar to let her roam and investigate to her hearts content.

Ravelling the lead around my hand I turned to Robert, who was turning in circles and admiring the large entrance.

He let out a low whistle of approval.

"This is impressive, there must be a lot of rooms."

"Well, I've managed to tidy about eight collectively and I still don't think I've gotten even a quarter of the way done," I laughed, "I have rooms set up for you all, though some may be bunking in a shared room for now."

Robert nodded and continued to stare around, his gaze falling towards the balcony hanging over the stairs which led to the alcove of the corridor.

"Someone could scream in here and you wouldn't hear the echo for years," he smiled, sparing me a glance before laughing almost nervously, "not to sound creepy or anything."

I gave him my own amused smile, accompanied with a faint shrug.

"Did you not see the inside previously?"

"Ah, no, I've only been working with them for about a month now, I started shortly after they initially left here the first time."

"Oh, a new boy."

"Yes," he rolled his eyes. "They have been putting me through my paces."

"I can only imagine," I snickered softly. "Anyway, you are welcome to set that down anywhere you wish."

Robert started a little, as if only just remembering that he was still holding the large bag of dog food.

Despite the vast amount of clear and open spaces around him, he still took his time in finding a spot to drop the bag down into.

After spinning on the spot, he chose the little loveseat just underneath the staircase.

Once the bag was standing up with minimal support, he turned to look at me once again and nodded.

"I should get to work."

"That may be a good idea, unless you want David to flip his lid."

We both laughed and Robert crouched down to China's level, ruffling the sides of her neck.

"Now, you be a good girl for the nice lady, I'll be back before you know it."

China wagged her tail merrily at the attention and briefly licked his hand as if in understanding as he stood up to his full height once again.

Robert gave me another quick glance before heading outside to join the other men.

I watched him leave, trying to remain ladylike and not let my eyes prowl too much.

He was undeniably a handsome man, full of charm and a strange endearing awkwardness that was undeniable, but Mother always said that leering eyes lead to temptations no lady who was raised right would have for anyone but her husband.

But even the imaginings of the wedding night were frowned upon, no excitement or fantasy of intimacy was allowed in our society.

I shook my head clear of any sinful thoughts that tried to arise about Robert, my fingers kneading at the material at the front of my skirt.

Now, I didn't come from a religious family, never had we attended church or said nightly prayers, but the scandalous words that would spread should my minor temptations become out of control would damage the family name most probably beyond repair.

It was a shame as Robert had already proven to be great company but as long as he worked for my father there would be no further acquaintance. Besides, he was still a near stranger to me and such thoughts were unwelcome.

A faint sigh passed my lips as I got my thoughts in check.

Looking down at China, I decide to distract myself with setting things up for the guests.

"They could probably do with some tea, don't you think?"

I gave the dog a smile and headed to the kitchen, China following curiously behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the introduction of a few key players.  
> Small little tidbit: Ben and China are two real dogs I have had in the past. Two real dogs who I miss each and every day.  
> Later on we will introduce more of the men and one of them is also named Benjamin, this is a further dedication to our gorgeous boy.


	9. Chapter Nine

By the time night fell, half of the manor had been surrounded by scaffolding.

The workmen had wasted no time in getting to work, the hours had flown by and they were all set to start the repair work the next morning.

Father had thankfully sent a care package of food along with the workers, plenty to keep us sustained for a good few days. Eventually we would need to venture to the nearest town to stock up, but for now we could eat comfortably.

Gradually over the course of the day I had been introduced to each of the men, it seemed that it was a process they felt had to be done individually, which became a little tedious after the first four.

As they moved around outside or through the manor one would stop, introduce themselves and then carry on.

Out of all of them I found my favourite to be an older gentleman called Nathaniel, though he preferred to be called Nath by his peers.

Despite being at an age where most would choose to settle down in their exploits, Nath was too much of an independent go getter to stay in one place.

"Why should I wither in a dusty old chair when I still have so much energy?" He'd grunted.

His humour never failed to entertain me and it seemed that he took my delight in good nature, rather than taking offence to my laughter.

It had gotten late faster than the previous days, the workers came inside and began to take it in turns to wash up from the days activities. I took it upon myself to begin an evening meal for them, sure that they'd be hungry after getting the scaffolding put up so hastily.

Despite my protests Robert had insisted on helping me make the evening meal, before I had even opened my mouth to protest he had taken a sharp knife and began to slice the raw beef steaks Father had provided.

After cutting up some vegetables, we set the food into a large pot of broth and left the stew to gradually boil.

During the wait we joined the others who had gathered in a makeshift lounging room, it seemed that as we prepared the meal the others had taken chairs found in other rooms and set them up in one of the bigger rooms for an easier conversation and break area.

It just so happened that the room they had chosen was the parlour containing the piano I had grown particularly wary of, though I felt much more at ease in there with company.

We wasted time in getting to know each other better, laughing and joking about shared life stories. It was a strange experience for me, I had grown up separated from people deemed lower than myself but they all seemed so much happier than some of the names that were regarded as the higher tropes of society.

It was refreshing, they didn't abide by strict rules and etiquette that had to be followed, though breaking my habit to remain ladylike at all times was proving a difficult even as they cursed like sailors.

My father would have a heart attack should he have heard how they spoke around me.

Robert again joined me in the kitchen as I made dumplings to compliment our stew, which was boiling well and filling the room with a mouth-watering smell, only sparking my hunger up further.

It was a strange feeling after having no appetite over the previous days, I hadn't realised how little I had eaten in the near week of my stay. Although it made sense when my fear of being alone in the kitchen reared its ugly head.

As I roll the dumplings an unpleasant shiver chilled my blood and ran down my spine.

In a brief moment of panic my eyes flutter around the room, wholly expecting to see an unwelcome guest, yet I find nothing but Robert staring at me with a strange expression.

"Are you alright?" I asked, setting the new dumpling down on the tray to my right.

"Me? Yes, thank you."

"You just look a little distracted."

"I am fine," he smiled, turning away to give the stew a stir. "Though I should be asking you after that shudder."

"Merely someone walking over my grave," I smiled as reassuringly as I could manage.

A vaguely tense silence draped over us, though I suspected that it was more on my part than his.

Something simply felt off, like there was something he wasn't telling me, but perhaps he was always carrying that kind of aura.

It wasn't as if I'd known him that long, not even a full day, so maybe he always had a pensive air to him even though he had seemed perfectly fine mere hours ago.

Robert cleared his throat and adjusted his stance a little, drawing my attention to him once again.

"Though I do have to ask," he looked at me and waited for me to give him an affirmative nod to continue. "It is true what they say about this place?"

"It depends," I replied with a quirk of my eyebrow. "What do they say?"

"Surely you've heard the rumours of this place."

"Of course, but there are many, I wish to know what you have heard personally."

"I'm referring to the Sharpe siblings being apparent murderers and swindlers."

"Ah yes, that."

"So it's true?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, I didn't follow the story," I answered with a brief glance towards him. "I was much more fascinated in that Jack the Ripper fellow."

"Yes, that was quite a bewilderingly terrifying case."

"It was, so suffice to say that aside from what Miss Cushing told," I stopped and frowned for a minute, "or is it Ms Sharpe?"

Robert let out a small laugh, "I don't believe it's either now, Mam, I think she married a doctor a few years past."

"Oh," I gave a short nod. "Well, good luck to her...but as I was saying, aside from what Edith told I can neither confirm nor deny anything as I wasn't here."

"You were never on Sir Sharpe's radar then?"

I glanced at Robert's cheeky smile and laughed, shaking my head and busying myself with putting the dumplings into the heated oven.

"While I heard rumours that he was a handsome man, I do believe I was perhaps a bit too young," I smiled at him good naturedly.

"I see, so what about the ghost stories?"

After setting the tea towel down on the side I sigh and fold my arms, looking at him.

"Ghost stories?"

My heart sped up in anticipation of his answer, whilst I felt dishonest feigning ignorance I didn't want to have to tell him of my encounters and have any of the workers think me a nutcase in need of an asylum due to spread words.

"Yes, surely you heard about the last group of scaffolders? They were scared away from this place mere months ago."

I took a tentative step forward, desperate to know more.

Father had told me that the previous workers had left but never given a reason beyond 'personal issues', he had never mentioned anything about the supernatural. He hadn't warned me of the potential strange occurrences that I could experience should I move in after his warning.

Maybe because he'd already bought the manor?

"Rober-"

"Hey, Bert! Where's the damn food?!"

I jumped as David's yell echoed through into the kitchen, cutting off my sentence and making me physically flinch.

Robert let out an aggravated sigh, probably because of the use of that hated name, and turned away from me to answer his supervisor after offering me a short apology.

The topic was forgotten as quickly as it had begun.


	10. Chapter Ten

Relative silence fell over the manor once again, giving the house a strange air, as if the past few hours had been nothing but an illusion.

The workers had all settled into their chosen rooms, the loud and boisterous laughter giving way to a deafening quiet, so quiet that a pin drop would echo for hours uninterrupted.

I had retired to my room before any of the men for a moment of peace, but there was no denying that there was comfort in hearing their voices travel from the parlour up to the open balcony of my room.

That sense of comfort disappeared as soon as all noises of liveliness ceased.

I couldn't say for certain how long I had been lying in the blinding darkness, my senses alert to every creak and groan of the settling walls around me.

Memories of past night flashed through my mind, constant and on repeat.

The sound of porcelain cluttering.

The sound of footsteps moving gradually closer to my room.

The feeling of something compressing the other side of my bed.

It was all on a repeating loop, playing over and over unpleasantly.

My bones chilled and my throat tightened as my emotions build up, everything was hitting me all at once and was stopping me from sleeping.

A part of me was nagging to get up and light the nearest candelabra, to get some light streaming into the room so I could get started on that Brother's Grimm book I'd had set by for a while now.

Yet I couldn't gather up the courage to move out from underneath my covers.

The thought of rolling over and facing towards the bedroom door spiked my heart rate and caused my hands to shake.

So instead I lay there, perfectly still and freezing cold despite the large duvet covering me.

My eyes stared towards the wall opposite me, though I knew a cabinet would otherwise obstruct my view in the light it made no difference as all that's in front of me was a wall of black.

It takes me a short while to notice that I had stopped blinking for some time, it wasn't until my eyes began to ache and beg for me to moisten them that I took note and closed them tightly.

Time continued to tick by slowly and my ears remained tuned into every bump that sounded, no matter the distance in the house.

Somewhere down the corridor I could head loud snoring, a noise that would normally be grating if it wasn't such a needed distraction from my own over active imagination.

The snore of one of the work men in a room down the hall from my own room reminded me of home, my father wasn't the quietest of sleepers and there was a strange comfort to the sound as it filled the silent void of the chilled night.

Lying perfectly still, I listened to the snores and imagined myself lying in bed at my parent's house, gradually picking up on a rhythm to the breathing.

Inhale with a short snort.

Wait four seconds.

Exhale with a gargled growl.

And repeat.

I listened to the pattern continue a few more times before a scuffling caught my attention.

The clear scuffing of shoes was closer than any other noise I'd heard to date, seemingly coming from the doorway behind me.

I stiffen up instinctively, as if lying stock still would stop any predator from seeing my figure in the bed despite the distortion of the duvet cover.

Deep down, I knew I had to eventually roll over and investigate the source of the noise and yet I couldn't find the courage to do so.

Surely there was a completely logical explanation.

Of course, one of the workmen got up to use the bathroom and got lost in the dark, that made perfect sense.

"I'm sorry."

The soft, yet deep voice carried through the room with a strange hollow echo. The close disruption of the silence caused me to stiffen again, my fingers clasping tightly to the edge of the duvet covering me.

"R-Robert?" I stammered, certain that the voice was his.

Although the sentence had been short it had certainly sounded like him, the slightly posh but not arrogant accent to his voice. The faintest hint of gruffness to the sound that only added to the unique tone.

It sounded just like him.

Letting out a long and shaky breath, I found myself easing the tiniest bit.

"It's okay, I'm sure you're just lost."

Finding a bit more courage I pushed myself up on wobbly arms, the short limbs feeling like spaghetti that shouldn't realistically be able to hold my weight. I shifted onto my hip as I calm down, the comfort of having Robert in the room making me feeling a little more at ease.

Though normally a strange man being in a ladies' room would be frowned upon, it was surely excusable if he was lost and needed guiding away from the area.

Whilst rubbing any residue from my eyes I stretched before sparing a glance towards the bedroom door, expecting to see Robert holding a candlestick and giving me an apologetic look.

But I find nothing.

Nothing was disturbing the darkness and even my vision, which was accustomed to the black by this point, couldn't pick out any distorted figures that seemed out of place.

There was only me in the room.

"Robert?" I called out with a hint of confusion, my eyebrows knitting together.

Had I fallen asleep after all and dreamt of his mistaken intrusion?

Surely not.

My heart skipped a few beats and I felt my breathing become laboured, my chest felt tight and air was restricted to the point of near suffocation.

Hastily, I dropped back down onto my side and pull the cover up as high as I can without cutting off more of my needed air supply, tears would undoubtedly be blurring my eyes were it light enough to tell a difference.

For a short time I could only hear my own pants, the breath warming up the space under the duvet and making it musty and far too hot.

Yet I cannot bring myself to lower the cover once again.

Eventually I catch note of another sound, soft footsteps moving across the room as if the one creating the noise was hesitant to approach. As if I was some kind of wild animal they didn't wish to startle.

I felt the tears slide down my cheek and partly towards my nose, I didn't want to expose myself to the chilled air of the room and yet I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay under the overheated cover for much longer.

"Please," I whimpered, noting how strained my voice was, "please, just leave me be."

There came no response, just the feeling of the bed behind me once again compressing, the dip causing me the slide back a little.

A hiccup tears the air as a hand is placed gently upon my covered hip, as if the one frightening me was now trying to be my comfort.

"I am sorry."

There it was again, that husky yet soft voice that startled me initially.

This time I could hear the sorrow in his tone, as if he was truly wanting to repent yet couldn't find the means in which to do so.

The pressure from my hip remained, only getting heavier as he seemed to rub circles on top of me.

My hands began to shake and despite my terror, my need for air overtakes my need to remain shielded from my emotional tormentor.

It was inevitable.

Taking a deep and shaky breath, I wiped my eyes with shaky hands and slowly lifted the duvet from my face to take in a deep gulp of cold air that tickled the back of my throat.

The weight of the hand moves itself from my hip and slowly seemed to trail up until it reached the edge of the sheet held just over my face, from the corner of my eye, even within the darkness, I could see pure white fingers slowly curl around the fabric and begin to pull it back in languid movements.

Almost as if I were the monster to them and they themselves were frightened to reveal my hideous features.

I found myself frozen in place, my breaths coming out shakily, as the duvet was pulled to expose me from just below my shoulders and up.

From the corner of my teary eyes I could make out a figure of pure white, apart from a gash underneath his left eye which was still a deep wound that appeared to be leaking blood that flowed up into the air rather than down his cheek as it should.

Even within the darkness I could see how hollow his cheeks were, as if even in life he had been a malnourished and gaunt man.

His lips were pressed into a tight, downcast line and his eyes held so much sorrow that even my own heart ached for him.

Fear still coursed through me, but now it was accompanied by a sorrow that seemed unending.

He did look uncannily like Robert, though his hair was much longer and framed his thin face in waves.

The ghostly stranger raised a hand and moved it to cover my cheek, the fingertips gently tracing down my cheekbones to my jaw, the whole time he kept his sorrowful expression.

He was so cold it, in turn, turned my own blood to ice.

As his hand moved I could, just barely, make out what appeared to be a dirty looking bandage sloppily wrapped around the palm.

"I'm sorry, Lucille."

The word wisped over me and caused me to shudder uncomfortably.

I was unable to tear my gaze away as another tear slipped down my cheek, a mixture of my fear and his sadness.

With a shaky breath, I opened my lips, though speaking was going to prove difficult as the bottom one was wobbling uncontrollably as if I was about to sob fully.

"My name isn't Lucille."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my readers for being patient with this update, I know I said I would update daily until I had run out of chapters, but I was summoned to the London Dungeons.  
> Now don't worry, both me and my dear friend managed to escape unscathed, so to make up for my brief intermission I will post three chapters today in order to catch up.


	11. Chapter Eleven

"I know what I saw, Robert."

The young man frowned at me, letting out a loaded sigh as he tangled his long fingers into his hair.

"I do not doubt you."

"You certainly sound like you do."

"I'm not! It's just," he paused briefly, chewing on his bottom lip, "it's a little farfetched, don't you think?"

"Yes! But it's true!"

I let out an exaggerated and uncouth growl of a noise, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and tugging on it harshly.

Tears stung my eyes and blur my vision, whether they were from fear, frustration or sheer sadness I couldn't differentiate.

I knew that what I was saying sounded ludicrous, some may have even been locked away for the rest of their years for making the claims I was and yet it still hurt that he didn't believe what I was saying.

"I've never seen anyone before, it was always just noises and feeling things."

"So you're saying that the manor is haunted."

"Why else would I claim these things? I have no personal gain from these statements and I was alone for most of it, wild stories would get me nowhere without an audience."

Robert nodded, staring at the now lukewarm tea in his cup. His bottom lip was beginning to turn red as he continued to chew on it in what I assumed to be contemplation.

"And you're saying that he looked like me?"

"Uncannily so, he sounded like you as well."

The look he gave me was an obvious one of doubt, but he didn't verbally express his opinion.

I shook my head and buried my face into my hands, unable to bear the look this near stranger was giving me when all I needed was a little bit of comfort.

For the first time in my life I was alone, hours away from where I once called home and familiarity, why couldn't he just humour me?

Sure, perhaps I was asking too much but it was all I needed right now until I calmed down.

I missed home, I wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in my mother's arms and cry about the unusual occurrences I had been subjected to during my stay and yet the possibility was so far out of reach it tightened my chest in anguish.

"Robert."

The sudden voice invading the uncomfortable silence between us caused me to jump, one of my fingernails catching my cheek as the sharp jolt dragged my hands back down my face.

"Yes, sir?" Robert replied, letting go of his cup and standing from the seat.

"Break is over, get your ass back to work."

"Of course."

Robert's eyes briefly met mine in a fleeting glance before he gave a polite bow of the head and walked out, David watching him retreat and making sure the coast is clear before taking the newly empty seat.

"Now, Mam, I understand that this is your home but I have to ask you to stop distracting my men."

My eyebrow quirked a little and I found myself sitting up straight in surprise as if I'd flinched at the accusation.

"Excuse me? I am hardly around your men enough to be a distraction."

The older gentleman rubbed a rough hand over his beard, the sound of the fine hairs scratching his palm filling the tense air between us.

"With all due respect, I don't think you realise the affect you have."

As I opened my mouth to protest he held his hand up to silence me, a stern look in his eye reminded me of times my father would reprimand me as a child for wrongdoings.

"Now I understand that some of these men are young and may catch your eye, but we have work to do and we can't have you distracting them with fluttering eyelashes and exposed bosoms."

Heat rose in my cheeks and I couldn't help but to briefly glance down, my dress nor corset was hardly low cut and exposed near to no flesh, you'd see much more at any high society meeting with the ladies in their lavish dresses.

Yet I still found myself trying to pull my shawl further around myself to shield anything deemed crude from view.

"I don't mean to cause arguments, but I can assure you that I have no intentions of catching any of the men's eye."

"Perhaps not," he sniffed whilst leaning back in his seat, a sound that stirred my stomach and pulled a little on my gag reflex. "However, you need to understand that men these days would find a dog appealing if you put it in a dress."

I frown at the sentiment he was pushing, unsure whether or not that was meant as a backhanded compliment or merely a passive statement.

The awkwardness that had been here with Robert soon took a shift of hostility, David's brown eyes bored into me and made me feel increasingly uncomfortable.

He didn't seem to believe that my claims were true, that I truly had no intentions of wooing any of the men into any sordid activities.

Never in my life had I considered myself anything special when it came to my appearance, I was very plain looking amongst the higher-up ladies with their flawless dresses and decorated faces. They all held an air of confidence that I couldn't keep, that wasn't to say that I was shy or reclusive, I still enjoyed conversing with other ladies and tending various evening events.

It was more that I never went out with the expectations of a gentleman asking me to dance over another, more done up girl who oozed a refined appeal, rather than my bland, every other girl kind of appearance.

I was rather friendly in nature and got along well with most people I interacted with for a short time, however my vibrant personality didn't make the flat dark hair or dark rimmed eyes stand out, but I was content in my loneliness.

Being a loner, it was fairly preferred this way.

So to now be accused of such activities was foreign to me, flattering yet alien.

I was honestly left speechless.

There was a gentle nudge to my leg and when I look down my eyes make contact with the dark brown ones of China, who stared up at me as if trying to show some form of canine empathy.

"I'm sorry sir," I mumbled whilst standing from my seat, "but I must feed the dog and take her out."

Without any hesitance, I turned away from the rugged man sitting at the table and patted my leg, signaling to the dog that I wanted her attention.

Mentally, I couldn't have been more thankful for the distraction and excuse to get out of the room and away from the accusations by a man who had been so friendly upon his arrival.


	12. Chapter Twelve

The walk had helped to stave my nerves and by the time I was done feeding China, I was ready to continue about my day.

Afterwards I continued with the chore of cleaning some rooms, something that was losing its lustre a little by this point, but the task of merely three rooms still took me well into the evening to complete.

I'd noticed that there were few rooms that had any personality once I'd completed the master bedroom.

All the rooms, aside from perhaps three, that I had worked in after sorting my own bedroom out felt so impersonal. Almost as if the other rooms were scarcely used, some held no personal items whatsoever and seemed to act more as a guest room for guests who clearly, judging by the extra layers of dust and cobwebs compared to other rooms, never wanted to join the Sharpe's in their large estate.

What really peaked my curiosity was that so far, despite all the rooms I had worked on, none appeared to have been used as a bedroom for Lady Lucille.

None of the rooms had any personal items for a younger lady, merely the decrepit decorations from a clearly older woman.

Probably the woman whose portrait was hanging in the parlour.

The only hint of spare female clothing had been in the master bedroom, which was quite clearly used by Sir Sharpe and his wife, Edith.

"How curious."

Stepping out of the lift, I enter the kitchen and start putting away my cleaning supplies in one of the lower cupboards.

"Mam!"

I jumped at the sudden interruption of silence, the back of my head connecting with the wooden frame of the cupboard door.

Cradling the back of my head, I slowly slid out from inside the cupboard. My fingers stinging the sensitive area when pressure was applied, making me hiss a little in pain.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," I reassured him, staggering to my feet.

A dull ache in my eyes blurred my vision for a second, once it cleared I met the eyes of Jonathan, one of the quieter of the men.

His grey eyes stared at me, full of concern and guilt.

"You should sit down."

Jonathan placed his large hands on my shoulders and led me to a chair at the kitchen table.

I had no room to refuse, he was at least a foot taller than me and could have lifted me into the chair like a child should I refused.

If gentle giant ever needed an example, Jonathan would be it.

"I'm truly sorry."

"It's alright, really," I gave him my best smile, trying to be pleasant and reassuring.

"I still feel guilty, I only came in to warn you about being in the attic as we worked not to frighten you into a concussion."

I raised my eyebrow a little at his statement, ignoring his other worded apology.

"Pardon?"

He gave me a brief startled look before seeming to take a moment to consider what he said until suddenly turning a little sheepish, his eyes flittering around the room as he cleared his throat.

"I mean no disrespect, Mam, I know this is your home and you can go where you please when you please, however it's-"

"Jonathan."

He abruptly stopped talking and looked at me as if I'd just scolded him, it was bewildering to see as he was a few years older than myself, being at least in his early thirties.

"I don't mean to interrupt so rudely, but I haven't been to the attic at all during my entire stay here."

Jonathan's eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head the smallest bit.

"I hate to disagree but there was definitely someone up there, a woman shrouded in black, dark hair, she looked remarkably like you at a glance."

"With a promise on my heart, I can tell you that I was not in the attic, I have spent my day cleaning more rooms."

Jonathan sighed and reluctantly nodded, though he still didn't look convinced.

"You said yourself that you only saw it at a mere glance, perhaps there was something that fell down."

"Perhaps you have a squatter."

An involuntary laugh escaped me, more as a defence mechanism as an unpleasant shudder runs down my spine at the thought.

"Surely not, I'd have noticed."

"It's hard to say rightfully, Mam, desperate people can accomplish amazing things."

An all too familiar short scene began to play out in my head as his words sparked memories from my first few nights here, the horrible thoughts that plagued my mind as I tried to sleep.

For years the manor had been desolate and abandoned, hardly barred off to anyone who could venture out this far.

Perhaps a truly desperate person had managed to make it out this far and find the perfect luck of shelter in the middle of nowhere.

Though why anyone would travel this far into nothingness is a mystery unto itself, unless they were on the run there was no reason to go this far as opposed to stopping in the nearest town.

Logically, it would make sense to camp out in the old manor, but it would never work long term.

If they made it this far by foot then travelling back and forth for food, which would probably have rotten a little by the time they returned, was not worth the hassle.

And food for a horse that could have been ridden on was more non-existent than human nutrition, the poor animal probably wouldn't survive past six months, if that.

In the long run it was entirely possible, but the likelihood of it still seemed to be a far stretch to me.

But now that Jonathan had set the idea in my head it would be impossible to get rid of.

"Maybe we should investigate it ourselves."

I looked up at Jonathan, who gave me a reassuring, although still concerned, smile.

"I suppose that it would be a good idea, we can get to the bottom of your mystery figure," I conceded with reluctance.

Another disturbing chill passes me, the reasons not eluding me but being too irrational to describe out loud to reassure myself, the thought of even being near the attic after some of the previous experiences I've had around the rest of the manor unsettled me.

It seemed a little farfetched, most of what had happened was surely explainable in some way and yet I found that those reasons wouldn't surface, and the one that did didn't make enough sense to comfort me.

But Jonathan had claimed to see someone and that couldn't go unconfirmed.

And hadn't the lift moved towards the attic that first evening I was here?

Taking a deep breath, I clenched my fists into the skirt of my dress and gave a hesitant nod.

"Very well, we'll go into the attic."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The journey to the attic was a slow one, probably due to my own nerves about finding a crazed person living so close without me knowing.

China seemed on edge during the dragging trip in the lift, her ears were tucked back and she kept her head low. Every now and then she let out a soft whine, which broke my heart to hear, I'd only brought her along for comfort and to be sure I was keeping an eye on her for Robert.

I spared Jonathan a glance, his own gaze remained on the metal lift wall directly ahead of him, his eyes looked slightly glassy and glazed over.

If I had to guess, I would have said that he was worried, perhaps even apprehensive about what we would find up there.

My own heart was racing uncomfortably fast, the breathing that was already laboured by the corset of my dress was beginning to increase at a rapid speed.

I was glad that I wasn't going up alone, but I still didn't want to truly go in the first place, however it was now my manor and I had to see over everything that happened inside it.

The attic had been somewhere that I'd hope to put off going to until the end of my cleaning adventure, not due to a fear of being up there alone but more for my fear of coming into contact with various, large spiders.

The unbreakable dark and nightly visitors I could deal with, but those eight legged abominations of nature were a whole other situation. So I suppose it was good that I was being accompanied up there for the first time.

So far I had found a surprising lack of spiders, the few webs in the abandoned rooms seemed void of any living occupant. In fact I'd mostly encountered moths, not even a mouse appeared to eat any left over food from Allerdale Hall, as if all living creatures were unwelcome unless it was indeed a moth.

The lift came to a juddering halt, almost sending me stumbling over at the sudden, violent jerk, ripping me from any previous thoughts.

I flickered another glance to Jonathan, just in time to catch his eyes doing the same. We give each other a shy smile, both of us clearly uncertain as to whether this was a good idea or not.

Jonathan takes a deep breath before pulling the grated gate across and stepping out of the lift, I give China a gentle nudge as a sign for her to follow before walking out myself.

My heart continued to thump erratically in my chest, adrenaline coursing through me and causing my lips to quiver as if they were a separate part of my body beyond my control.

Jonathan led us down a short path that soon turned around a corner, if I glanced over my shoulder I could see a path just beyond the lift that no doubt would lead to the stairs to get up here should the lift be unavailable.

Considering the construction, we hadn't thought it safe to risk putting our weight on them just yet.

Through a dust covered window, I could see the scaffolding that had been moved around the building, the pipes looking worryingly rickety but that could have been an illusion of the dirty glass.

Loud yells and tools tinkering and clattering could be heard faintly through the window, I had to admit that I was curious as to how their work was done and the certain processes and instruments that needed to be used.

Jonathan now turned the corner and was out of sight, China spared me a glance over her shoulder as if to make sure I was still joining them and wasn't lagging behind.

"Did anyone come up here previously?" I enquired, needing to fill the silence.

"There was a report from the last lot of workmen to come here," he called back.

"Nothing was claimed as a disruption or raised any alarm."

I couldn't help but frown a little at that, if there was no disruption then why did the last lot of hired men leave?

Father was a generous man, surely it wasn't due to a money dispute.

"I see, thank you."

Jonathan's footsteps clomped from around the corner, unseen by me but definitely slowly receding further as I stared out of the window. Soon the only sign that he was even there would be the boot prints in the thick dust and moth carcasses.

I had a vague memory of Father telling me small bits of information about the manor that could have possibly come from the workmen's report itself.

Nothing worrying or causing of concern had arisen, though I still wished for answers as to why they left. Had they not then Allerdale Hall would be at least halfway complete by now, a completely selfish thought but a logical one at the least.

If it had been a simple personal issue for one or a few of the men then there'd be no need for this seeming secrecy, so that cemented my thoughts that there was something more that perhaps even Father didn't know.

A soft tinkering caught my attention, bringing me out of my contemplation.

Turning away from the corner Jonathan has just disappeared around, I spot another dust covered pathway leading the opposite way from where we were heading.

There was no doubt in my mind that that was where the music was coming from.

My boots clumped in the dust, no doubt coating the bottom of my dress as it dragged along the floor. The thick layers covered the sound of my walking, leaving barely a thing to fill the silence.

All that was there was the soft tinkering of something that reminded me of a childhood music box.

With my hand grazing across the cold wall, I turn the opposite corner and face a dark door down another short corridor, the music coming out clearly from behind the wooden barrier.

Once again glancing over my shoulder I check to see if Jonathan had noticed my absence, noting that he was nowhere to be seen and as he didn't seem to be calling for me I take a deep breath and convince myself to be brave and investigate.

It's what we were up there to do in the first place.

This was just another decision for me to question later, one to add to a long list of doubts and unknown dangers I had pushed myself towards since arriving at Allerdale Hall.

I wasn't one to scare easily, but even I could understand that at times my choices could be more than questionable to others.

Curiosity always got the better of me, for better or for worse and as of late it'd definitely been more towards the worse.

Especially as I'd have nowhere to run to and hide for comfort, being out in the middle of nowhere after all.

No parents.

No communication further than the workmen.

No place to recede and wait for a signal of safety.

It took me another moment of confidence building before I took a step closer to the door, all the while I was mentally berating myself for idiotic actions like that of a morbidly curious child.

Yet I couldn't stop myself.

The tinkering got slower, this would probably have been the point where a child would have been lulled to sleep by the music or when the music's gradual degrading would begin to creep into horrifying daydreams.

To me it was a hauntingly beautiful sound, one that sent a faint shiver through me and yet calmed me at the same time.

A small, and honestly expected, creak filled the air around me as the door swung open on its rusted hinges, revealing a surprisingly clean room concealed behind it.

It was purely amazing to see that there seemed to be barely a speck of dust covering the cluttered room, the other rooms I had ventured into so far has been caked in dust and now I felt as if this room had become a barrier so all particles had to find residence elsewhere to settle.

There was no other way to describe the room aside from being a large collection and amalgamation of stuff.

The amount of wooden tables was insurmountable, but nothing compared to the amount of materials decorating the tops.

Various kinds and cuts of wood sat beside metals that looked dulled around each of their edges, here and there were tools just waiting to be used.

Sat amongst the clutter appeared to be scraps that were already partially fitted together, ready to make the next item to join the others that were scattered around.

Across the room, directly in front of me sat a strange clown like bust, the face painted pale with a cup in each hand, behind that stood an open cabinet full of what looked from this distance to be journals, books and more scrap.

"That's mildly disturbing," I shuddered.

Clowns always did have a strange affect on me.

Stepping around the room I take in the various bits and pieces littered around, small gears and mechanisms lay next to another lot of intricate patterns and blueprints all on separate sheets of paper, not unlike the book of diagrams for the large contraption outside that I had found in the master bedroom.

I picked up one of the diagram sheets, glancing over the finely detailed and annotated design of a music box.

"Sir Sharpe, you smart devil," I mumbled to myself, letting out an airy laugh.

The rectangular block that must have acted as the base of this very design had been resting on top of the sheet, a small window on the bottom of the block showed the cogs and mechanical workings inside.

As I tilted the box to look inside, despite not understanding the intricacies of how it was put together, it made a soft tinkering sound. A very short snippet of the song I could swear I had heard from the corridor.

"Was that you?" I asked the inanimate object. "How curious."

A skittering of feet sounded behind me and I turned to find Jonathan in the doorway, as white as a dove with wide and wild eyes.

"Mam, there's something dreadful in the other room."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Jonathan raced behind me, protesting my actions of hastily rushing to the room he had been investigating and trying to convince me to not venture to.

Even China seemed skittish about trailing along, her head was low and her ears were down once more.

On the floor, large dead moths crunched beneath my feet. I laid an apology to each one in my head as I passed, though even if they were alive it wouldn't have been understood by the creatures.

Such a brutal, accidental act that was unavoidable as they were littered everywhere, like a morbid carpet.

"Mam, I really don't think you should," Jonathan protested once again.

By that time I had already turned the last corner and rushed towards the doorway of the room at the end of the corridor, my heart was racing and my breathing was already quite erratic.

With one hand resting on the doorframe, I took a single step into the room and let my eyes trail over everything. 

A smallish room was inside, taken up mostly by a large bed, a smaller table and a set of drawers, once again the surfaces were covered in dust and everything was coated in white.

Such a stark contrast to the newly discovered toy room.

Time felt like it had slowed when I'd looked into the room, what felt like minutes as I'd scanned the room had only been seconds in reality.

The anticipation to discover what Jonathan was trying to keep me from had dulled some of my senses, things seemed hazier than before and I found it hard to concentrate fully.

There was nothing spectacular about the room itself, but my heart jumped up to my throat as my eyes grazed to the right of the enclosed space and suddenly time sped up once again.

Just diagonally to my right, across the room from me slouched a terribly off coloured skeleton, at least off colour from what I imagined one would be.

My blood chilled and I felt all colour drain from me, the white almost matching the hue of a piece of particularly clean bone that jutted out from cloth.

The clothes sat horribly crooked and what must have been originally white of the shirt was now a nauseating mix of light green and yellow.

Bile rose in my throat and I had to cover my mouth, as if that would somehow keep everything together and as it should be.

Tears stung my eyes as I stared at the garish grin of what was left of the body, small bits of skin were still attached here or there, that was easily identifiable from the few left over tufts of black curls atop the skull that could only be attached by flesh.

"Oh god," I sobbed, having to turn away as I find myself gagging.

Suffice to say it wasn't everyday that I stumbled across dead and decayed bodies.

"I'm sorry, Mam," Jonathan spoke so softly it was almost as if he were hardly there.

"There's no smell," I barely registered myself saying.

Whilst it was only half true of there being no smell, there was the expected mustiness of age to the room and the slight hint of something unpleasant, the belief that a body would leave an everlasting smell behind was prevalent and unrelenting in my mind despite the clear evidence in front of me that that wasn't so.

"Pardon?" Though I wasn't looking at him I could practically hear the confused expression in his voice.

"There's no smell," I repeated, my eyes finally meeting his and confirming my assumption. "In stories there's always a terrible and sickly smell, why isn't there a smell?"

By the end of my sentence I could tell that I was getting frantic, yet I couldn't seem to stop myself as my voice raised in pitch.

So many thoughts crashed through my already aching head, so many of them mixing together and yet none were coming to any logical or reasonable end.

I found myself staring at the deteriorated wallpaper in front of me, a tear slowly trickling down my cheek as my fingers press against my dry lips.

The silence that loomed in the hall was one of pure discomfort, my company clearly uncertain on what to do in the moment.

He scuffed his boots on the floor, kicking up a plume of dust.

"Well, I'm no expert on bodies, but I can only guess that the smell would have faded a while ago, there is nothing left to make a smell."

Even to my scrambled mind, that made a small bit of sense.

Of course there was a lingering scent, but there was nothing akin to the claims you'd read about in reports of such findings.

I hadn't torn my gaze from the wall when a thought hit me at full force.

"You said that nothing was claimed as suspicious in the reports of the previous men."

"They didn't report anything," he scowled, trying not to look towards the body.

"Well they clearly didn't search well if they missed a blasted skeleton! That's not a detail you just forget or happen to leave out!"

"I don't understand, we should get David."

I nodded, sparing a glance towards the body once again.

"Who do you suppose it is?"

"I'm not sure," Jonathan sighed, rubbing a hand over his barely there beard. "There wasn't any report about squatters being found."

"There also wasn't a report on decomposed corpses," I replied dryly before a dreadful thought hits me. "You don't suppose it's Sir Sharpe, do you?"

"Surely not," Jonathan gasped. "Though looking at them it's very possible."

"It's been ten years, if Edith knew of this then why didn't she tell the police to collect the body?"

"To be honest, Mam, despite how strong a lady she is I believe she may fear this place."

The shock finally began to fade, though wholly rational thought still hadn't returned and some things weren't clicking into place for me.

Edith's story of what happened in the manor was a horrific one, at least the pieces I had heard about it, but she had claimed to love Sir Sharpe.

And yet he hadn't been laid to rest?

No one had notified the police about retrieval of the body?

But didn't he have an older sister? One who also had been left behind at Allerdale Hall after an altercation with Edith herself, according to the former Ms Cushing?

Then where was Lady Sharpe's body?

That thought sparked a reaction and another wave of nausea washed over me and turned my stomach.

I didn't dare to venture into the room further, resistant to investigate the horrific reality and learn any further disturbing possibilities.

Just the sight of the stained chair and the discolouring of the floor beneath it caused my heart to lurch, there wasn't any way that I'd be able to keep a clear head whilst knowing that I was searching for another cadaver after just finding one.

Though it was a mere speculation that the one slouched in the chair was Sir Sharpe, it was the only one that made sense.

Turning away from the open door I place my head on the top of Jonathan's arm, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths to calm myself.

"We must inform the others and send a letter to Father," I barely mumbled once I'd relaxed enough to function properly.

As I walked way, I didn't dare look over my shoulder as the door clicked shut behind me.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Robert set the now empty cup atop the bedside table and turned back towards me.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes full of concern.

"Tired," I laughed in response, albeit a little half heartedly.

He too let out a withered huff of a laugh, "After today's excitement that is no surprise."

"I suppose not."

I stared at the hands resting in my lap, revisiting the events of the day.

The body remained in the attic above our heads.

Nathaniel had left with George, a stick of a man that held a surprising amount of strength in his tanned arms, to head out to the nearest post office with a letter I had written to Father, urging him to inform the police of the discovery here.

If they crossed paths with any form of authority during their travels, then David had instructed them to seek their help too.

"Get the whole damn town here if you have to," he had grunted.

David had also informed the remaining five men to cease work on that side of the manor, not wanting to disturb the remains anymore than they had, claiming to have too much respect for the dead to mess with their graves.

Robert had taken it upon himself to watch over me whilst Alexander, Ben and Hille worked on moving the needed tools and material to the other side of the scaffolding.

China lay at the end of the bed, her head rested on my shins as she slept, like a canine protection blanket.

"I don't know what do," I mumbled, still staring at my hands whilst lacing and unlacing my fingers.

"You can only keep pushing forward," Robert smiled as reassuringly as he could. "Of course you'll be in shock, but once they have come and removed the body you can try to continue on forward as normal as possible."

"Normal feels so far away at this moment."

"Of course it does, but you'll be amazed at how quickly it shall return."

I smiled gratefully, though I wasn't confident in the strength of it.

If Robert noticed how uncertain it felt to me then he made no comment on it, instead he put his hand over my left one which was still rested on my lap and gave it a gentle rub with his thumb.

"Let's say," he began whilst standing from the bed and making his way around to the other side of the room, "that I take your mind off things and read to you."

He picked up the book I had placed on the small table by the window, turning it over in his hands as he walked back to his seat at the bedside.

His gaze stayed fixed on the book as he flicked through the pages, a wistful expression rested on his face as his fingers grazed the edges.

"You know, I didn't always want to work in construction."

"Oh?" I implored with a curious look.

"No," he huffed out a laugh and glanced my way from the corner of his eye, "I did want to write."

"Really? And what stopped you? If you don't mind my asking."

"It's nothing too personal, I just can't write," he shrugged, seeming a little sheepish.

My eyes widened at the sudden revelation and my cheeks flush at forcing it out of him.

"You can't?" I gasped.

"No," he let out another chuckle, his eyes briefly glancing towards me before they too widened. "Oh! No, not like that! I have the ability to write, I just don't have a story to tell."

"I see," I smiled towards the duvet with embarrassment, "sorry for my presumption there."

"It's hardly a problem, it was an easy mistake with how I worded that."

I only nodded in response and silence fell between us as he continued to flick through the book to find the bookmark I had placed between the pages, I fiddled with my fingers in my lap to ease my own tension.

The quiet wasn't uncomfortable beyond my humiliation, but after my find this afternoon I needed some noise to fill the air. The silence reminded me too much of when I had been alone before the men had arrived, this whole time now knowing that there was a decayed body in my attic.

"If you ever do write anything, may I read it?"

Robert's gaze flickered towards me and he gave me a kind look.

"Shall it ever happen, are there any topics I should avoid?"

My brows knitted together as I think, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and nibble on it a little.

"Romance."

"You don't enjoy a good love story?"

"Not at all, it is all far too mushy for my liking, it must be the spinster in me."

We both share a laugh, the embarrassed tension in the air alleviated for a moment, something I'm sure both of us are thankful for.

"What do you think will happen now?"

"I'm sure that once the body has been removed, we will continue as we were."

There's another silence, one I break much sooner than the others.

"Do you think it was his?"

"His?"

"The body upstairs, do you think it was Sir Sharpe's?"

Robert's blue eyes seem to glaze over for the briefest of moments, his face turning stoic in a way I hadn't witnessed before.

"Who truly knows? I'm not sure of the explicit details that transpired here so I cannot say for certain."

"I probably know as much as you do, so I am of no help."

"It's likely, Edith's book was a fascinating one."

"I wasn't aware that she had written one."

"I'd heard that she had been aspiring to for years before the fact."

"I see, is it..." I trailed off and glanced around the room, unsure if asking would bring about any unwanted emotions, "based on Allerdale Hall?"

"I can't say, though I do get the feeling it's at least vaguely inspired by this place."

"They do say to write what you know."

"Indeed, but the events in the book could never had actually happened."

"And why not?"

"It's a ghost story, that could hardly happen in the realm of reality."

My heart jolted at his words, not something he would have noticed from my outward composure.

The small details I had read in the newspapers never mentioned anything paranormal nor did I recall any mention of a book being published in her name, but now I wanted to know if there were any abnormalities that could hint to the truth of what resided in these walls.

This wasn't a subject I dared to bring up with Robert, especially now he had made it clear that he wasn't a believer in such things.

At least that was the strong impression from his last sentence.

"So you're not a believer?"

"I am definitely sceptical about these things," he nodded. "Clearly that is somewhere that we differ."

His tone wasn't accusing or hostile, the ease of the topic showed that he was open to conversation and was willing to listen to any counter arguments.

That was a relief.

It was far too common for people in the higher society to get irked and argumentative if you didn't agree with their opinions, at times they would completely cut others off mid sentence purely because they didn't agree fully with their points.

Gala's and the like were not for independent thinkers, they were merely for those who all thought alike or at least pretended to.

Though many of the higher-ups either didn't notice or enjoyed being surrounded by yes men.

"So I take it that you are a firm believer, if what I took away from our previous conversation is correct."

"I have my reasons to believe there's more than just us," I laughed airily, feeling a little foolish at saying it out loud.

"It'll be these that is getting those kind of thoughts caught up there," Robert commented, raising the copy of Under the Sunset that he had in his hand.

"Not at all!" I protested a little too eagerly, "I have also read Dracula, but hardly believe in charming and charismatic blood sucking creatures."

"Perhaps so, but I doubt it helps."

I huffed and shoot an attempted piercing glare at him, to which he merely laughed with that boyish grin once again.

"Pardon me for being so forward, but has anyone ever told you that you're bit of an ass?"

He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes widening a little in what I can only assume was shock.

For a moment I feared that I may have stepped over a boundary, my heart skipped a few uncomfortable beats in my chest until he smiled a charming, playful and wide smile.

"Not to my face."

"Then I am honoured to be the first, sir."

His eyes rolled, but they held nothing but mirth and amusement.

Wordlessly he flipped the book open once again to the page I had marked, leaning back in his seat he took a deep breath before beginning to read.

I relaxed against the headboard of my bed and finally let my mind be taken away from this disturbing place, at least for a short time.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Over the course of the next three days everyone stuck beside one another, supporting friends during a time of uncertainty.

The time dragged on slowly, the looming knowledge of what was upstairs a permanent thought scratching at the back of our minds.

Hille, a short but sparky man with wild brown hair, had taken it upon himself to be the chef.

Somehow he managed to work his magic with the few ingredients we had left.

David spent most of his time sitting around and grumbling about the fact that George and Nathaniel had taken so long to return, only arriving the previous afternoon and it was abundantly clear that he wanted to get on with work and didn't like being side tracked.

Robert had been using Alexander, a firecracker of a man with red hair to match, and short but stocky Ben to keep me distracted and entertained in the mean time.

They regaled me with various tales of their short time working together, a few of which my father would probably disapprove of me hearing.

"And there was the time old Robert here got accosted by a night worker!"

Robert's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, he almost seemed to drop his drink into his lap as he jolted in protest.

"You said you wouldn't bring that up again," he glared at Alex, who shrugged with a large grin.

"It was funny."

Ben nodded with a chuckle, "It was great, I've never seen a man so unaware of where to put himself."

"I know the answer to that," Alex smirked.

"Not one we want to hear," Ben glanced at him with a knowing look.

"She was a pretty woman."

"She was," Robert nodded. "But I'd rather not pay for it."

"It's the only way a twig of a man like you would get some," Ben laughed.

"Well, we aren't all built like very low walls."

Alex snorted and ended up dribbling a bit of his drink down his chin whilst Robert smirked in triumph, Ben took the defeat and chuckled his approval at the insult.

I laughed softly, glancing between them all whilst taking a sip of my own drink and grimacing at the bitterness of the beer that they had brought along.

I was unaccustomed to hearing people being so open about such things, it was a taboo thing within the communities I was used to mingling with as I grew up.

Hearing everyone being so open was new and exciting, if this was what living alone was like then I fully believed that I would enjoy it.

As soon as the corpse had left my attic at least.

Robert placed his bottle onto the table in the middle of our attempt at a circle before slapping his hands atop his knees and standing up.

"I am going for a walk."

"To where?" Alex practically yelled, the alcohol no doubt limiting his volume control.

"There's an entire wilderness beyond these walls to take advantage of and I plan to do so fully."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed, "have fun in a dead land."

"I'll go," I stand up, dusting my skirts off, "it does look lovely out there."

Ben smirked and wiggled his eyebrows in an unusual manner, his lopsided grin aimed at Robert.

"Sure, you're going 'for a walk'."

Alex laughed at his air quotations, accidentally snorting more drink through his nose and onto the carpet between his feet.

He let out a rasp and pinched his nose, from where I stood I could see that his eyes were watering.

Ben erupted into another bout of laughter at his suffering, as if in salute he raised his bottle in the air then took a large gulp.

Robert took this distraction to slip away without further teasing, I followed closely on is heels with China pattering out behind us.

As we step out, I pulled the heavy doors closed and pocket the ring of keys I'd used to unlock it previously, the set was an alarmingly large collection that mostly went unused, but still stayed with me at all times.

The worry of losing something important was a nag I'd always had since I was a girl, and misplacing my house keys would definitely be an utter disaster.

Robert had stopped a few feet ahead of me as I closed the door, with his hands behind his back he turned to face me with a friendly smile.

"We certainly picked a good day for it."

I lifted my head towards the sky, noting the faintly grey clouds and small patches of dull blue sky that dared to shine through.

"Is it really any different than any other day here to date?"

Robert chuckled and gave a brief nod.

"You have a point there, that was a bad conversation starter."

"It's certainly better than the one you were having previously."

"I suppose you're right, sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"It was definitely," I paused briefly and bit my lip, trying to think of an appropriate term, "eye opening."

"Once again, I apologise."

"Think nothing of it."

"I promise I am nothing like that."

"Robert, what you do in your private life is no business of mine."

Silence fell over us as we continued our walk down the path, China eagerly snuffling along the dirt ahead of us.

Our feet drifted on towards the distant gate, slowly and quietly as we both seemed to get lost in our thoughts.

Or at least I had.

I only presumed that Robert had too with how intensely he was staring at the ground beneath his broken grey shoes.

China's loud bark suddenly filled the silence, causing my heart to jolt and a gasp to escape me.

Beside me, Robert too jumped and looked towards the large canine.

"China!" Robert barked out a warning.

Not that she paid him any attention, instead she barked more as the fur along her neck stood up and her tail tucked between her legs.

She stared intently towards the large bit of rusted and dangerous looking machinery.

"Pack it in," he continued, stepping closer to her, "there's nothing there."

I leaned to the side a little to see if I could spot anything myself, perhaps a stray animal or an unusual shadow that would have alerted her but nothing alarming seemed to be there, just as he had stated.

As Robert took a step towards her, China was off like a shot, her bark ringing loudly as she ran towards the machine.

Robert was hot on her heels, calling to her and trying to get her to settle down.

I lifted the bottom of my long skirt and go after them, wary of going near the thing but also not wanting to be left alone.

She began to circle around the large machine, barking like mad until, just as suddenly as she had started, she settled into silence and sat in one spot beside the contraption, facing the manor as her tail wagged eagerly behind her.

Robert stopped beside her and placed a hand on her back as he crouched down to her level.

He looked around, trying to see what could have possibly set her off, but I doubt he saw anything more than what I could.

"It must have been a bird or something."

"I didn't see anything of the sort, but it's possible," I sighed.

China leaned into Robert's touch as he stroked down her back, quieting as if nothing had happened mere moments before. Her barking was replaced by her panting, trying to get her breath back after her sudden burst of energy.

"Sometimes I think that she just likes talking," he smiled, petting her neck once more before standing up.

"Much like her owner then."

Robert pulled face and rolled his eyes, though it was clear that he was trying to stifle some amusement.

He turned on his heel and looked over the machine beside him, letting out a low whistle of approval.

"What a mighty beast she is."

I glanced over the large heap of metal, though I had no fascination in machinery I could admit it was an impressive piece.

"Quite eloquent in a way," I nodded in agreement.

Robert stepped closer to the machine, holding his hand out to touch the rusted material. His fingers grazed down its side as he slowly walked to the front of it where some part of it seemed to be dug deep into the ground.

I bit my lip and frowned in concern, watching as he moved around the large machine.

"It's marvellous," he grinned.

"I believe it's a contraption made by Sir Sharpe himself."

"Thomas made this?"

"I don't think you should be addressing him so casually," I laughed, "but yes, I found his design book whilst tidying the master suite."

"Truly? Did you keep it?"

"Of course, it would be an insult to get rid of it."

"Great, I'd love to see the design process."

Robert's grin and excitement was almost contagious, but I found my breath hitching in my chest when he promptly hoisted himself up and onto the contraption.

"I really don't think you should be doing that."

"Just relax, I'll be perfectly fine."

I sighed and placed my hands on my hips with an exaggerated roll of my eyes, then I turned away to scan the area around us and track down where China had wandered off to, just to make sure that she was keeping out of trouble.

She was only about twenty feet away, merrily sniffing the ground and occasionally bounding forward as she caught something that excited her.

I envied her in a way, being able to be so free and not having to care who witnessed you at your most annoying times. Not having to live up to social standards and still having someone who cares for you even if you could be a pain and suffered from many flaws.

Never before had I stopped to think about it, but now that I had I realised just how much being a human caused so much stress.

A pained yell pulled me from my musings and made me jump, I turned on my heel back towards Robert who jumped away from the machine, cradling his right hand.

"What happened?" I asked, rushing over to him.

"I don't know, but I think it burned me."

"Well I told you not to mess with it."

I take hold of his hand and carefully look it over, wincing with a light hiss at the deep red marks that ran diagonally across his palm.

"What were you even doing to get such a mark?"

"Nothing," he replied defensively, "I didn't notice a jagged parts and it clearly hasn't been used in years."

"It is strange, the sun couldn't even generate enough heat on that thing to scald you."

"Even if there was any sun."

"Precisely."

"This whole place is so peculiar."

I dared not comment again on the other things I had witnessed here that he hadn't, there was no guarantee that he'd believe my claims more than he already barely seemed to and I didn't wish to be made to look like a fool after our previous conversation.

"We should get you inside and run that wound under some water."

He nodded and gave me a grateful look, one that almost reminded me of a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

Cradling his hand to his chest with his fingers curled a little, he made his way back towards the manor.

I followed shortly behind him, sparing a glance over my shoulder as if hoping to finally see something.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

A couple more days passed uneventfully.

Nathaniel and George had arrived back safely with a successful report of my letter being sent off, now we just had to wait for a response.

Robert's hand was healing well, though the minor burn still caused him enough grief to be a hindrance as he worked.

The others had taken a great deal of pleasure in teasing him, making jokes that I wouldn't dare repeat, all accompanied with obscene gestures.

David was beginning to get frustrated with the level of work being done, everyone knew that easing back was the best idea for the time being but that didn't mean that David had to like it.

We all waited in mixed levels of anticipation for the reply with a course of action, until then we all tried to carry on as normal.

Things had gone quiet on the spectral side too, the manor gradually becoming a place of relative calm as I settled and finally relaxed in my new home.

A part of me began to believe that perhaps it was my mind playing cruel tricks on me, that perhaps the stress of the move and being alone in such a large and admittedly rather strange looking manor had gotten to me and caused me to conjure up such imaginings.

The mind is a powerful thing after all.

They say that if you were to sit in a purely silent room for more than ten minutes, with absolutely no sound obstruction then you would begin to hear, see and even feel things that were impossible to be there.

Maybe my senses were trying to fill a strange void I was unaccustomed to after spending my twenty six years living with my family, constantly surrounded by the noise of family life and rarely having time to get lost in my deepest thoughts and senses.

If this is what they conjured up after mere days, then I didn't wish to dwell there for too long ever again.

Although that didn't explain what happened to Robert's hand nor how that machine managed to harm him despite being dormant for years, something which still greatly concerned me with each passing day.

About four days had passed since the accident and it all carried on smoothly, considering the circumstances.

It was in the early hours of the sixth day that I found myself being jolted awake abruptly by the door being pounded on.

I immediately sat up in bed, thankful that it takes me barely a moment to wake up, something many people don't have the luxury of. 

I hastily stumbled out of bed and bolted to the door to haul it open.

On the other side stood a flustered looking Jonathan, his breathing laboured and coming out in ragged pants.

"Mercy," I huff, placing a hand on my chest. "You scared me half to death."

"Sorry," he replied in a huffed breath. "I just have to inform you of the carriages coming up the path."

"Pardon?"

I gently stepped past him, not caring that I was still in my nightdress, and head down the stairs to the main entrance.

My heart was still racing from the sudden jolt awake, admittedly part of me had initially thought that the pounding on my door was a sign of the spirits of this place acting up once again and announcing their return.

With slightly shaking fingers, I fumble with the ring of keys to find the one for the front door.

Once the door was unlocked and opened, a terrible gust of cold and bitter early morning air blasted over me and sent a freezing shudder down my spine.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs behind me, a brief glance over my shoulder revealed Jonathan running down the steps with Robert close behind him.

"What's going on?" Robert asked with a sleep laden voice.

"I believe the police have arrived," I reply before making my way outside to greet the arriving carriages.

I stood a few steps from the porch, shivering in my nightgown as the carriages pulled up, a total of four coming to a stop.

The two men stood on either side of me, a warmth gradually began to seep into me between the two larger bodies.

An authoritative looking man stepped out of the first carriage, his face sullen and decorated with alarmingly thick eyebrows. Behind him a slightly younger uniformed man stepped out, his brown eyes sweeping over the manor unashamedly.

"We're here to collect a body," the elder one grumbled, his eyes focused on Robert.

I quirked my eyebrow and cleared my throat, hoping to draw his attention, but he paid me no mind and continued addressing the men.

Jonathan was the one to reply, his voice seeming a little shaky which I could only put down to having to talk to the law.

"I-I can show you where he is."

"He?" The lead man asked, raising one of his bushy brows.

"We believe it's Sir Sharpe that we found," I replied, though once again I went ignored.

Robert cleared his throat briefly and shifted on his feet, almost coming across as uncomfortable with a solemn expression.

"I see, care to show me where 'he' is then?"

Jonathan nodded uncomfortably quickly and spared a reluctant look with us before turning away and leading the two men inside.

From the second carriage, a gurney was pulled out by two other middle aged men, the frame rattling as the legs of it dropped to the floor, looking less than stable.

Just after the two men had finished bumbling with the gurney and quickly chased the other three inside, the door to the third carriage opened and my eyes widened as my parents stepped out.

"Mother? Father?"

Robert side-eyed me then looked towards the carriage with a strangely delighted chuckle, which instantly put me on edge.

"Your parents, hm?" He asked with a mischievous smirk.

"Yes, why on earth are they here?" I stage whispered to him from the side of my mouth.

"To make sure their fretting daughter is alright and not too traumatised, I believe."

"I'm more traumatised that they have turned up."

"They can't be that bad."

"No, don't get me wrong I love my parents, however-"

"There she is!"

Mother practically tackled me into a rib crushing hug, the point of her lavender hat almost knocking into my face as she leaned in.

Her energy was something to be admired at this time in the morning and I'm hardly someone who has energy issues once arisen.

I shoot a quick side glance towards Robert, who quickly looks away, trying to conceal an amused smile.

Had he been looking, I'd have sent him to an early grave with the glare I gave him.

Mother pulled away, still grinning as a child in a sweet shop would.

From how she opened her mouth it was clear that she wished to continue her gushing, though she said nothing as her eyes shifted to look over my shoulder, her expression falling drastically.

"Mark, what in the blazes have you bought our daughter?"

Father had approached as Mother was tackling me into her tight hug, a smile splitting his neatly trimmed facial hair in two.

"You don't like it?" He replied with a light chuckle.

"It's a dump!" She cried, staring at the manor.

I glanced at Mother, biting my lip a little with a sheepish expression.

"I like it," I chimed in, knowing full well that Father wouldn't buy me something he didn't think to be to my taste.

"And we are working to improve it," Robert added.

Father flickered his eyes to Robert, his face instantly turning a little cold as he surveyed him, more than likely unhappy with him standing so close to me.

"And just who might you be?"

I was almost certain Father knew the answer, but maybe asking and getting clarification would ensure him that this wasn't some straggler who had strayed into the house and invited himself to stay.

"I'm one of the workers hired to renovate the manor, sir."

"Oh, how wonderful! It's great to meet one of my employees," Father smiled as if greeting a friend, holding a hand out to him. "And your name?"

"Thomas," he responded unflinchingly, taking my father's hand and shaking it with an equally friendly smile.

I looked at him with an inquisitive raise of my eyebrow, a look to which he merely gives a brief, sidelong smile before returning his attention back to my parents.

"Really? I don't recall seeing a Thomas on my finance rota," Father frowned a little, "I better get that seen to, but anyway welcome aboard."

"Thank you, sir."

I frowned and shifted my weight from one foot to the other, chewing the inside of my cheek in order to remain quiet.

Why did he lie about his name?

What possible reason could Robert have to feel the need to lie to my father?

A silence descended between us all, not an uncomfortable one, but most certainly thick on my side.

Hille soon joined us after being awoken by the commotion and after introducing himself to my parents, suggested that we all retreat inside and warm ourselves from the early morning chill with some tea.

Father enthusiastically agreed as long as the offer was turned to coffee, as neither he nor Mother were takers of tea.

With a laugh, Hille says that he shall see what he can arrange once everyone is inside.

As my parents followed Hille into the manor, I gently took hold of Robert's arm and pulled him to one side.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a shortness to my tone.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you lie to my father about your name?"

"I did?" He seemed to frown as if in confusion, like he couldn't remember, but something about it felt very false. "It must have been a mere slip of the tongue."

"How does a slip of the tongue turn Robert into Thomas?"

"Mistakes happen," he assured me with a charming smile. "Think nothing of it, I shall correct him a little later."

He says nothing further, nor waits for me to respond and steps away from me, continuing to follow behind everyone else as they retreat inside.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

It was a short while after we were sat down with our drinks that the couriers emerged from the lift, wheeling out the remains which were respectfully covered with a white sheet.

A solemn silence fell over the group, a collective silent mourning for a stranger.

The couriers wasted no time in wheeling him out, not sparing a glance back.

Hille raised his delicate cup in the air, as if saluting to the deceased with a hot beverage was a sign of respect.

For good nature, a few of us joined in with a small nod before taking a tentative sip of our respective drinks.

"Works better with alcohol," David grumbled, though he still raised his own cup. "But who knew if the bastard drank?"

We all look towards him with a variety of looks, mostly of annoyance and disagreement.

It seemed that the more days that passed, the worse David's attitude got as he sat around twiddling his thumbs and waiting to continue his work.

"Is there really need to speak ill of the dead in his own home?" Father quipped, shooting David an unpleasant look.

The other man merely shrugged, "Not like he's here to hear it."

"I agree with Father," I nodded with a sombre expression. "This was originally his house and we should respect that."

"Respect a man who lived in the most unsettling mansion I have ever worked on, out in the middle of the sticks alone with his sister? It all seems a little bit suspicious to me."

"There was nothing 'suspicious' about it," Robert snapped defensively. "If you read and understood their story-"

"Oh, cut it out, Bert, he was just a mere man, a mere dead man now."

"He was still a baronet," I chimed in weakly.

"By sheer circumstance," David sneered back. "So he could put 'Sir' in front of his name and act as if he were anything more than a commoner."

"That is enough!"

The room falls silence once more, leaving only a small trace of an echo to reverberate around the room.

Everyone stared at Father, who had stood from his chair and is fixing David with a look of disgust.

David seemed to shrink into himself under the scrutiny.

My father was never one to yell, Mother was typically the one easy to temper whilst Father remained calm and rarely raised his voice even when we were at our worst as children, hearing his voice echo around the room sent a wave of discomfort down my spine.

"Now, you listen to me and you listen good," Father continued, his voice becoming the most unnerving calm I had ever heard, "Sir Sharpe, and likewise his sister, may not have been the most highest standing of society, but this was still their manor and I will not stand by silently and witness a man insult another in what was once his home, especially not after his body was removed mere minutes ago."

The silence lingers and thickens between us all for a moment longer, David grumbled once more after a brief pause and sunk down further in his seat.

Father let out a long breath and sat back down, the rest of us finding a new fascination in our drinks.

Footsteps soon break the quiet as the men with the gurney returned, their gazes slowly sweeping across us all.

"Are there any other bodies for us to collect?"

"Well, you would guess that Lady Sharpe's would be here somewhere."

I glanced towards Robert and notice a brief but strange glint in his eye, part of me began to wonder why he would have fathomed the thought.

Though I was aware that he knew more about what had transpired here than I did, I couldn't decipher how he would know if her body had been discovered or not.

Perhaps it was a guess or it had been a newspaper I had missed, so I felt uncertain about questioning him.

"Are you telling me there are, sir?"

"By natural deduction, I'd say so," Robert nodded with a grim look.

"And where would it be?"

"From what I recall," he began, his brows furrowing sadly, "she would be outside."

"But none of us have seen anything of the like outside," I commented softly, placing my hand on the top of his arm.

"Bah, don't listen to Bert over there," David scoffed. "He's just too invested in this place, if it were outside it'd probably be gone by now."

"Probably dragged off by animals," Father nodded in reluctant agreement.

I shivered lightly at the grisly image, a bloody scene of nature playing in my head.

"Yes, you're probably right," Robert conceded solemnly.

The officer from earlier, who had finally introduced himself as Harris to my parents, stepped up beside the body couriers and cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention.

"If there are no other bodies on location that have been found then we shall be on our way."

"Just like that?" Mother asked.

"Yes, we have a statement from Master Jonathan and it's quite clear no one here could have been involved in any foul play from ten years ago, I believe we aren't needed here further."

"Do you not want a statement from my daughter?"

"If she was with the young man at the same time then I suspect it would only be the same account of repeated events," he sniffed haughtily.

"Well I suppose the main difference would be that he found him, I was looking at a room full of toys and pieces that I had stumbled across."

"You found what?" Hille asked looking perplexed.

"In the attic there are two split offs, one of the corridors leads to a strange little toy workshop," I smiled. "It has all kinds of things in there, even a clown bust."

"Sounds creepy," he shuddered.

"It's a little peculiar I admit, but seeing as it appears that Sir Sharpe made them it's also quite impressive."

"Wait, you're telling us they had a child here?" David grimaced.

"Not necessarily, it may have just been a quaint little hobby," Mother pointed out.

"I bloody well hope so, no child deserves to be raised in a place like this."

"The Sharpe's themselves would have been," Robert put forward. "And they apparently seemed well enough mentally to mingle within normal society."

"The time I met Thomas Sharpe wasn't a worry," Father chuckled suddenly.

"You've met him?" I asked, a little surprised at this small revelation.

So he was a stranger to one less of us than I had believed, though Father didn't seem much more upset than the rest of us.

"Indeed, a little over twelve years ago I do believe."

I was a little speechless at the news, I had been fifteen and couldn't remember ever seeing him at any function.

Although I also didn't have the faintest clue of what he truly looked like, so there was a chance that I had briefly met him and simply couldn't recall the occasion or put a face to a name.

Perhaps in further searches of the house whilst I continue to tidy in the future will help me stumble across a picture, one that will help me decipher if I had ever seen him previously and had not realised.

"If we're truly done here then we'll take our leave," Officer Harris croaked.

For a moment I had forgotten that he and his accompanying officer, as well as the couriers, were still there as we got sidetracked by conversation, which may have been a blessing in disguise.

It went without saying that I had taken a disliking to him almost immediately, his demeanour towards my mother and I making my eagerness for him to finally leave all that much greater.

"Of course," Father nodded, standing once again and gesturing with his hand towards the doors. "Thank you all for promptly taking this long trip, I do hope you don't get lost and troubled on the way home."

Robert and I share a side glance, both of us clearly thinking the same thing and our matching expressions caused us both to laugh, something we each attempted to cover.

Hille was a little less subtle with a loud scoff and a roll of his eyes, something Officer Harris didn't fail to notice as he gave Hille a pointed look of dissatisfaction.

"Yes, well I do doubt that the return journey will take less time, but we can only hope."

With a nod farewell, Offier Harris and his associates left without waiting to be escorted out, all mumbling amongst themselves about something I probably didn't want to hear.

The atmosphere changed almost instantly after they had left, immediately lifting with the air becoming thinner and lighter.

The relief was instant and it was as if we all breathed a collective sigh as we relaxed.

Even if innocent of anything scandalous, there was always tension where police were involved.

"Now that the body is taken care of we can get to work," David said, almost sounding cheerful. He pushed himself out of his chair and looked between Robert and Hille, "Grab the others and we'll begin right away."

Robert merely nodded and stood up whilst Hille let out an almost dramatic groan before slowly getting to his feet.

As the three left the room, I couldn't help but to watch with a smile.

Finally things should begin to settle down and return to what I once knew as normal.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

By that afternoon, Father had decided to join the men outside and began to help them with some of the jobs, meanwhile Mother and I had gone to the library and found the perfect distraction from the tidying we had planned on continuing.

Though we hadn't intended, or even expected, to find a library during our room search, it was a spectacular find.

We had always had an affinity for books, Father and two of my three brothers had no interest in literature and never really understood how we could whittle time away staring at the pages.

I sat at a table near a large window, carefully flicking through a book as delicately as if I were holding a child.

Mother was arranging piles of various bits and pieces whilst dusting, at least until she too stumbled across a title that intrigued her.

At some point she had reached a desk that sat to my left and took it upon herself to organise the various bits of old paperwork we could discard.

"This place is unlike anything I have ever seen before," I smiled, not looking away from the copy of The Devil's Elixir that lay in my hands.

"I still think this place is a shamble, definitely not worth to serve our daughter as a home."

"But I love it."

"I suppose you were always into the more unconventional things," I could hear the eye roll in her tone.

"Enjoying the scarier things in life isn't all that unconventional, Mother."

"It certainly is to me."

"Many young ladies enjoy a bit of fright every now and then, it's not as if it gives me night terrors."

"It did always take a lot to scare you," she hummed, not sounding at all interested in what I was saying.

I shook my head a little with a small wistful smile.

A sudden exclamation from Mother made me flinch in surprise, causing me to almost fumble with the book in my grasp as my grip loosens just a bit.

I may be hard to scare, but causing me to jump was easier than I cared to admit.

"What is it?" I asked, closing the book and turning to face her.

In her hands seemed to be a set of photographs, some in worse condition than others, but all piled together none the less.

Mother had a cautious flip through, revelling in the images that mostly consisted of the same three people at varying stages in life, after each picture she would turn it over and read the inscription on the back were there one.

"Ah, I do remember meeting him," she hummed to herself.

I leaned over to observe the picture that was currently on top.

Stood in front of a set up window display were two dark haired people, one male and one female, were I to hazard a guess I would say they were near to their early thirties or late twenties.

They both stood tall and proud, staring with hardened faced towards the camera.

My heart freezes as my eyes linger on the male, his eyes seeming to keep locked onto mine with a solemn expression through the paper.

Images of the ghostly figure beside my bed the other night re-emerge and my heart falters a little.

Taking the photograph from Mother, I turn it over to read the neat inscription on the back.

"Sir Thomas Sharpe and Lady Lucille Sharpe, 24th October 1883," I read quietly to myself.

"I do vaguely remember meeting them now upon seeing their faces, your father is right, he was a charming man," she stated over my shoulder, looking at the picture briefly before nodding slowly. "He definitely matured in the years since I met him."

"I do suppose that twelve years is a long time, even adult features change over the years."

"You do have a point," she hummed in agreement, "he certainly had looks to go with his charm."

"Mother!" I cried, though it was broken by unavoidable laughter at her cheeky smile. "That is no way to speak of a deceased man."

"Perhaps so," she sighed dramatically before grinning slyly, "though I dare say that he bears a strong resemblance to Robert, he's certainly a good one too."

The thought wasn't an original one, I had come to that realisation the night the spirit had visited me.

The resemblance between the two was undeniable, even through the slightly altered and deteriorated visage of Sir Sharpe during his visit and the thought sent uncomfortably shudders through me.

Of course there were differences, such as Robert's lighter and much shorter hair, he had a much happier and content aura than the one Thomas gave off in the photographs and the fact that Robert was obviously alive, but overall they were almost identical twins and no one would call you a fool for believing it was some strange elaborate joke.

"Mother, honestly," I muttered, wanting to avoid the subject further.

"What? Darling, you aren't getting any younger and nor are we for that matter."

I briefly paused for a moment to fight down the burning building in my cheeks and struggled to keep an embarrassed, wide smile from taking over.

It was a habit I loathed, I couldn't simply blush or cower into myself when a little embarrassed, no, I had to inherit a wide grin that made it seem as if I was lying whether the embarrassing statement was true or not.

As embarrassed as I was, I could hardly deny that Robert was a handsome man who I had quickly bonded with, mostly thanks to my love of dogs and his blessing of bringing China along with him.

That wasn't to say that any of the others weren't a source of great company, Alexander and Ben were particular favourites of mine, but Robert was always so lovely that it was hard not to fall for his friendly charm.

However, we had only spent short amounts of time together and whilst physical attraction was there I thought it far too early to say that it was anything beyond a little giddiness around him.

"I'll have to apologise for disappointing you then, as I assure you that there is nothing happening between the two of us."

"Not yet, perhaps, but you were gifted with child bearing hips and I wish to see you wed and with child at least once before I die."

"That is truly a pleasant thought, thank you Mother."

She either didn't notice my sarcasm or chose to ignore it and instead focused her full attention on the pile of documents and photographs.

"What do you want done with these?"

"Pardon?"

"Well they're yours now, sweetheart, this is now your home, unfortunately."

I blanch a little at the not-so-subtle insult of my manor but brush it aside with a sigh a, resigning to the fact that Mother would never like my new home.

"I suppose for now we can set anything personal or that seems important to one side and I shall go through it at another time."

A strange smile came across Mother's face, accompanied by an odd twinkle in her eyes.

"Look at our girl, all grown up and organised."

"I was grown up before I moved here."

"I know, but it seems worse now somehow."

"Of course it does, I'm not longer under your very roof or constant eye, you shall worry so much more."

Mother sighed with a sad smile and continued on with her sorting, I turned back to the book I had been reading but found that my attention kept drifting to the photographs.

It was distracting how similar Thomas looked to Robert, the likeness was uncanny and soon my mind began to come up with conspiracies that were beyond insane.

Long lost son.

Disastrous doppelganger.

Long distant cousins who had never met.

"Maybe that one isn't so obscure," I mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, nothing Mother."

I smiled to myself whilst staring at the picture, revelling at the astounding find and finally putting an official name to the face of my visitor.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Over the next few days, David became a driving force over his men.

He wasted no time in making sure that they caught up with the work they had missed during their brief and unpleasant intermission.

Father tried suggesting and almost ended up outright demanding that he slowed down, lest he cause one of the men a serious injury.

For a brief moment it appeared as if he listened, though it was just barely.

He'd let them take twenty minute breaks instead of ten every couple of hours or when they needed a nature break or a drink, but they more often than not wasted those valuable minutes sleeping as if it would conserve even an ounce of their energy.

The second those minutes were up, he was in the room, yelling for them to hang it up and get back to work.

As more days passed like this, the men tired and physically exhausted, the higher tempers flared amongst them.

It seemed that minor resentment was building and the once friendly atmosphere soon dissolved into thick, palpable silence.

Occasionally from outside the sound of raised voices could be heard and things would escalate in the blink of an eye, the mere slip of one nail and everything descended into pure hatred.

On the odd day, one of the workers would finish their day with a bruise that I wholly suspected wasn't caused by a piece of equipment.

The manor's tension filled more as everyone became surlier, even my parents appeared to be dragged down by it.

Mother had started to go quiet, choosing to lose herself in a book and ignore everything, whilst Father had taken over the dictation of the men as best he could.

Though he still chose to step back a little for David's sake, Father had begun to tell when the men needed rest and became insistent to the point of pushy about it.

Something I'm sure David loathed, though he stay silent on the matter lest he have his wages docked in retaliation.

Not that my father was that way inclined when faced with dispute, but a lingering threat always hung unsaid between them.

The physical affects were drastic and noticeable, the bags under everyone's eyes darkened by the day and their energy diminished to the point where it seemed that even talking was too much effort.

It seemed as if Robert was hit the hardest.

His once vibrant and light complexion had dulled and become a strangely complimenting pale, not unhealthy but concerning all the same.

The usually well sorted curls had started to grow out into disarrayed waves at an alarming rate and his usually blond strands were dotted with dirt that almost seemed to blend in as if it were his natural hair colour, turning it black or at the very least a very dark brown, especially around the roots.

I look over at him as he sat in one of the comfier chairs within the kitchen, my concern building as he swayed a little, his eyes and head drooping as he fought to hold sleep at bay.

With a soft sigh, I leaned over and placed my hand on top of his, something which caused him to startle a little.

"Robert," I frowned, "perhaps you should go and lie down."

He lifted his head sluggishly, his blue eyes barely seeming to register me.

"I can't," he mumbled, "I only have ten more minutes."

"Oh tosh to that," I scoffed, "you're practically keeling over in front of me."

"But David-"

"Pardon my interruption but forget what David says, he's running you all into the ground."

"That may be, but he's still our boss and he can fire any of us at the drop of a hat should we cross him."

"And my father would-"

"Will you stop it?" He snapped suddenly, "This is none of your concern, so stop pushing it."

I paused midsentence and chance a look at him, his tense expression of irritation making me wince a little, a look that had dissolved as quickly as I noticed it.

Whilst chewing on the inside of my bottom lip, I turn my gaze to the murky floor beneath my skirts.

"Of course, I apologise."

"No, I didn't mean..." his softened voice trails off as I see him run a hand through his hair and distressing it from the corner of my eye.

"It's okay, I spoke out of term regarding something that is not a ladies' business."

"I didn't mean to imply-"

"You stated what you intended to, don't think that you can alter it now it's said."

I dared to meet his eye again, my chest squeezing tightly at the sombre look in them, his lips turned down sadly.

"I was out of line and you rightfully told me so," I continue faintly.

"I can't agree with that."

"And so be it."

I dust off my skirt then stand up, picking up the cup I had previously been drinking from.

In silence, I stepped to the sink and rinse out the dirtied cup and spoon, feeling an awkward tension linger between us.

Yet another one to add to the manor.

The silence caused my mind to stir and the more I thought about what had happened the worse I felt for getting snippy with him, but my pride wasn't going to allow me to be the first to break the quiet.

I dried my hands on a damp washcloth and leave the room, my eyes trained straight ahead of me.

The whole time I could feel his gaze linger on my back and I had to resist the urge to turn around and confront his sad expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that chapter my little notebook is completely, time to start a new one!  
> On another not, as of the time updating this (January 7th, 20:35) it is my birthday! Yay! Another year older!  
> Sorry this one is so short too.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Things didn’t boil over for another few days, but tempers and hostility flared one night over dinner with sly and jabbing remark made about the food that George had prepared.

David had rudely spat the food out and grimaced whilst dropping the partially chewed meat unceremoniously back onto his plate.

“What is this slop?” He grunted, glancing down as if he had been personally offended.

“It’s me mam’s special beef,” George replied with a disheartened frown.

“I wouldn’t serve this slop to pigs.”

“The only thing pigs wouldn’t eat is you, even if you were the last food source available,” Ben quipped, his dark and tired brown eyes shooting daggers at his supervisor.

David turned his glare to Ben, his fists clenching tightly around his cutlery.

“That is not how you speak to your superior.”

“You get respect when you earn respect, boy,” Nathaniel spoke, though he didn’t look up from his plate.

The air around the table thickened and grew tense, everyone antsy and on edge, a quick look around the table was enough to give away everyone’s mood.

Mother and Father kept to themselves, staying as close to one another and as closed off as they could, their attention was solely on themselves and their food.

Ben sat glaring at David, who was trying to stare him down in return.

George, Alexander and Hille sat in a solemn silence, the only noise from them coming from their cutlery scraping against their plates.

Nathaniel had taken it upon himself to start distracting an anxious Jonathan with a story about his first job, years where he fondly remembered making charcoal and the fun they’d try to instil using the bulls used to plough the fields.

Robert was the liveliest one at the table, eating with a gusto that I had never witnessed from him before. He was eating as if he were a starving man who had never seen food before.

His speed was matched only by China’s, who had wolfed down the unseasoned meat that George had specifically set aside for her in no time flat.

I ate my food at a calm pace, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone to be sure that their stress wasn’t passed onto me more than it already had been.

The slight disagreement I had had with Robert hadn’t officially been settled, but it had breezed over naturally which left me feeling a little underwhelmed, but cleaning, tidying and sorting out my belongings that were gradually finding a place in the clean rooms kept me distracted.

Much like our disagreement, the one from dinner never got resolved and everyone retired to their rooms more disgruntled than they had been that morning.

That evening we all went to bed early, downtrodden and fed up, I don’t believe it took anyone long to fall asleep.

It was hours later when I jolted awake, blinded and disorientated by the thick darkness that still enveloped my room.

China was whining and scratching at the door in a desperate attempt to get out, it took a moment for my lagging brain to catch up and realise that something was clearly wrong.

Loud thudding, yells and sounds I had never heard before lured a small crowd out of their separate rooms, from the corridor I could hear footsteps thundering past my door.

The grogginess mixed with adrenaline and kicked my senses into high alert, so I threw the covers away from my legs, swung them over the side of the bed and stumbled my way to the door.

I had to gently nudge China out of the way to pull the door open and peer out into the cold hall.

Just as I looked out, Ben poked his head out of his own room and peered down to the end of the long corridor.

“What is all the commotion about?” I asked.

“It seems that someone has gotten into an argument,” he replied in a sleep laden voice.

China barged past me roughly and took off running, her bark echoing down the hall and mixing with the men’s yells.

I step out of my room and close the door behind me before setting off after the dog, calling her name.

A small crowd had gathered on the landing, the men all silent as they stared in one direction, I couldn’t see their expressions but the air was thick and sombre.

Robert stood at the top of the stairs, leaning a little over the banister to peer over the ledge.

I nudge through the crowd and walk over, stepped up beside him and had to stand on my tiptoes to see what he was watching over the banister.

I look down and gasp at the sight of David’s body crumpled at the bottom of the stairs.

The sight of this man twitching and desperately trying to move and breathe chilled me, the image searing forever into my head.

I had to look away from him and chose to instead turn to Robert who hadn’t moved from beside me, his expression was dark but otherwise unreadable.

“Robert, what happened?”

He slowly turned to face me, now that I could see his face the shock and panic was clear, his blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“What happened?” I repeated pointedly.

“I don’t know,” he stammered weakly. “We were having a discussion and it’s as if he misstepped, but it all happened so fast.”

“Discussion”? Hille spoke up above the murmur of the other men, “I could hear you both arguing from my room.”

Robert’s breathing became rapid, his chest heaving as he took short gasps in a desperate attempt to get enough air through an onslaught of panic at the accusation.

“I assure you, Hille,” he breathed out after a minute “I may not be fond of the man, but I wish him no harm.”

“You can’t be suggesting that he was pushed, not by Robert.”

Hille’s eyes turn coldly towards me, the tiredness more evident than ever.

“And why not? What makes Robert so special that he’s exempt from the possibility?”

“I believe everyone here would be,” I snapped.

“Yes well, it’s not as if you truly know us.”

“Enough,” Nathaniel barked. “We have no proof of what happened here and turning on each other and pointing fingers is the last thing we need.”

He harshly shoved past Hille and George, heading down the stairs with a deep scowl.

I watch him briefly before turning my attention back to Robert.

“Are you alright?” I asked gently.

“Yes,” he replied, clearing his throat, “just a little spooked.”

“Your eyes are teary.”

“Hence how know that I’m spooked,” he laughed half-heartedly, moving to wipe his eyes.

I feel a warm hand tug on my wrist and find myself stumbling back a little, a short yelp of surprise escaped me as Alexander pulled me beside him as he glared at Robert, a strong and protective hand was placed on my hip as he held me near him.

“Leave him be, you shouldn’t be talking to a killer.”

“I didn’t push him!” Robert yelled, the exasperation and pleading clear in his voice. “He’s not even dead, we can still help him if we band together with Nathaniel.”

A bone chilling groan filled the air and froze my blood, silencing everyone once again.

Despite myself I find my hands tightly gripping onto Alexander’s bicep as a means to ground myself and stop any oncoming panic, in an almost instinctual reaction he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest, one hand resting on the back of my head and the other on the small of my back, as another agonised moan from David rang out through the foyer.

I clench my eyes shut, as if not seeing would also make it hard to hear, and wait the ghastly sound out, my heart aching for the man’s suffering.

A shuffle catches my attention, which is shortly accompanied by a yell of; “You stay right there!”

The instant my eyes open again they connect with Robert’s, who was silently begging for help.

My brows furrowed and I opened my mouth to respond with something my brain hadn’t yet conjured, but instead I find my gaze slowly drifted over his shoulder.

Time seemed to slow down and my heart jolted when I spot the figure.

Silhouetted by the candlelight, at the corner of the banister where the landing floor turned into the first step, stood the dark spectre of a woman.

My breath hitches in my throat as I take in her tall and peculiarly elegant visage.

Her long black dress reached the floor and was a stark contrast to the white and rustic colours of Sir Sharpe’s own spectral clothing. Much like the blood from Sir Sharpe’s ghostly wounded cheek, the black material of her clothes seemed to swirl up into the air like smoke.

As I stared, she seemed to turn her head in my direction and gave me a malicious smirk.

There was no questioning that I was staring at the emaciated face of Lady Sharpe.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

The photographs I had seen of the Sharpe’s made me believe that were she standing straight, as opposed to leaning over the railing, that she would stand tall with her head held up proudly.

The effect of her almost snake like image peering down seemingly gleefully at David was haunting and stomach curdling.

“What are you doing?”

Hille looked down at me with furrowed brows.

“Pardon?”

“Not you, her,” I indicated with a nod towards where she stood, refusing to take my eyes off of her for a second.

“Who?” He asked in confusion, looking towards the banister.

“Her! Don’t you see her?”

Everyone surrounding me exchanged quizzical looks as Robert turned to look over his shoulder and seemed to linger for a second longer than necessary.

Surely that meant that he could see her too.

Alexander’s hold on the back of my head tightened and his fingers grip onto my hair a little.

“She must be in shock,” George commented with a grim expression.

“I am not in shock, I am telling you that someone is there.”

“It’s only Robert,” Jonathan remarked sleepily.

“No, a woman.”

“He may be a coward and bit of a meater, but he’s no woman,” Alexander snipped, “women tend to have decency.”

“Will you leave him alone and please listen to me?” I beg helplessly.

“No,” George responded calmly, “we should get you back to bed and away from this ruckus, it’s no place for a lady.”

Alexander places a hand on the small of my back and pushed me into turning away, despite all my protests and resistance.

Eventually, after much pushing and coercing, I resign to them and keep quiet, feeling useless as my protests fall upon deaf ears.

As I’m moved away I shoot Robert an apologetic look over my shoulder, his own eyes lingering on me as I’m led to the corridor.

Before my vision is taken over by a wall I see the spectre once more, in the blink of an eye she had moved to stand behind Robert with her eyes trained on me and one ghastly hand was clasped onto his shoulder.

Despite my best efforts I didn’t manage to return to sleep that night, my mind was convincing me that any creak or groan of the manor was Lady Sharpe trying to find me within her domain for spying her, unlike the others.

My eyes ached as I, at times, forgot to blink and the cold air dried them and although my eyelids felt heavy, my mind refused to succumb to sleep and instead replayed everything from earlier in a horrific loop.

I’m unsure of how much time had passed before a soft knock broke the silence of my room and caused my heart to jolt and panic to rise up at the thought of her finding me, something I cursed myself over, rationality telling me that a ghost had no reason to knock before entering a room of their choosing.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice breaking with uncertainty.

“Sorry to disturb you so late, but would it be fine if I came in?”

“Oh, Robert, it’s you,” I sighed, sitting up in bed, “yes, please do.”

The door creaked open and I could barely see the vague shape of Robert as he stepped into the room.

“I know this is quite unspoken of, perhaps even inappropriate, stepping into a lady’s room at such an hour, but I had to speak to you.”

“Is this about earlier?”

“It is.”

“Good, I’m glad someone is willing to, everything has stopped me from getting sleep.”

“It would be rude to push you aside in your own home.”

“You may think so, but it appears as though the others do not.”

“I do think they’re only doing that they think is best for you.”

“Well they’re not, with all due respect they are making things worse by keeping me in the dark, yet I have no doubt that they’ll go straight to my father and inform him of everything in the morning.”

I fell silent and glared towards the bed, knowing full well that it was common for society to turn to the men and leave the women with only blots of information, if any at all, for their own sake.

It was far too common for women to be passed over in favour of the men in their lives.

Even when signing for the manor, the company had been reluctant for it to be put under my name as opposed to my father’s or even one of my brother’s. It had taken quite a bit of convincing and smooth talking from Father, but eventually they had agreed.

Not that this left me any happier, having to put up such a fight just to own something to myself, under my own name.

It had always left a slightly bad taste in my mouth, but that was the way society was and no matter how much independence and authority I wanted, I needed to accept that the workers would go to Father long before they went to me.

“Would you mind if I sat down?”

Robert’s voice broke through my thoughts and I slowly shook my head before realising he probably couldn’t see me through the dark.

“Not at all,” I confirmed out loud, shifting a little across the bed to give him comfortable space.

The left side of the bed dipped down as Robert perches on the edge, from what I can see of his outline, he is turned ever so slightly in my direction.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked gently.

“I am fine, thank you.”

“You’re certain? It was quite a shock back there.”

“I am, Robert, I’m just trying to make sense of everything.”

“That is understandable after everything you apparently saw back there.”

“Yes, ‘apparently’,” I laughed faintly, remembering our previous conversation of his beliefs.

There was another brief pause of silence between us, both of us barely moving or even breathing it seemed.

“Will he be okay?” I finally ask, though my voice comes out in barely a whisper.

“Well,” Robert sighed and took a moment to adjust his position on the bed, “we have made his as comfortable as we can, but with it being so hard to contact anyone I fear for the worst.”

I frowned but gave a nod of resignation, the fact that David wasn’t likely to survive didn’t come as a surprise to me and yet I still felt my heart wrench at the thought of his suffering.

My fingers knead at the duvet beneath my hands, the digits going cold from exposure of the chilled air.

“Robert?” I start, my voice faltering once again as I fought back the build up of tears.

“Yes?”

Unseen in the darkness, he moved his hand over one of mine and ceased its movements, the warmth of his skin almost instantly warming mine up and making my stomach flutter in the most peculiar way.

“She pushed him? Didn’t she?”

The quiet that followed made me wish that I had a candle lit, just enough so that I could read his expression to my question.

I knew he wasn’t a believer in such things, but I couldn’t deny that odd goings on lately surrounding him as of late and the thoughts were gnawing at my mind more and more.

Surely even he saw that something strange was going on at Allerdale Hall, he may have been a sceptic but he was an intelligent man, perhaps he would settle my mind with much needed assurances and explanations of what was happening around me.

“Please, tell me it wasn’t you,” I add on, my voice sounding foreign even to myself.

“Of course it wasn’t me,” he replied in a strangely hoarse voice.

Unexplainable tears finally pricked at my eyes, causing the back of my throat to hurt as I fought them off.

They weren’t tears of sorrow for David anymore, at least not fully, but I wasn’t entirely sure what else could have caused the sudden onslaught.

“It was her, wasn’t it?” I repeat desperately, praying mentally for confirmation of my sanity.

Another pregnant pause of silence sits between us, but I felt Robert’s hand clasp at mine, his fingers curling around so the tips dug into my palm.

“It was,” he finally answered, barely above a whisper.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

The door clicked shut beneath the palm of my hand and I paused for a couple of breaths to make sure that no one had heard it.

I took a few steps back, keeping my eyes trained on the door with the bowl of water pressed to my stomach until I felt certain that no one had heard anything and was coming to investigate.

Once my paranoia was sated, I turned towards the rest of the room.

My eyes scanned the dreary dust laden room, the vast emptiness still feeling somehow cramping within the poor light.

Even in the dim light David stood out amongst the dust covered furniture as he was the only thing not grey with the stuff, his makeshift bed lay tucked into a corner towards the left side of the room being dwarfed by a cabinet that loomed over it.

A terrible pain fluttered in my heart as I cast my eyes over the still body on the bed, knowing that mere hours ago he had been up and about, barking orders at anyone under his supervision was devastating.

I slowly moved towards his bedside with tentative steps all the while finding it hard not to stare down at him, the way he looked so frail tugged at me and I found that my distaste for him lessened just that little bit.

The deathly pale and clammy look to his skin and the rattle to his shallow breathing were terrible to witness first hand and it truly hammered in precisely what Robert had mentioned about him possibly not making it.

This man did look on the brink of death and I felt awful about help being days away even if we managed to contact anyone in quick succession.

Each of his breaths sounded laboured and made me feel anxious with every rise and fall of his chest.

I set the small bowl of water I’d brought from the kitchen aside on a small cabinet top and carefully leaned down to him.

“David?” I breathed out, sounding quieter than I had intended.

The fact that he barely stirred proved that I hadn’t gotten through to him and I felt a sudden rush of nerves as I realised that I’d have to try again.

I give my throat a quick clear and shuffle my feet as if to brace myself again, a small voice in my head pricking up that perhaps he was already dead despite his obvious breathing.

An awful sounding groan finally came from David and I let out an involuntary yelp, in an instant my hand flew to my mouth to muffle any further sounds.

I managed to push past the racing of my heart and try to focus on helping him now that he was semi responsive.

My hand splashed into the bowl of water and fished around for the cloth inside, once my fingers clasp it I lifted the rag and wait until the worst of the rinsing is over before moving back to David.

“Open your mouth,” I ordered softly, not entirely comfortable with telling this man what to do.

The way his jaw slowly draped open made me feel uncomfortable, but I fought past my unease and continued on with wringing out the water from the cloth into his mouth before wiping it across his face and then finally resting it against his forehead.

It seemed that for a moment he was unable to swallow as the water caused him to splutter and cough most of it back out of his mouth, though afterwards he seemed to take it in just fine.

I left him for a brief moment to return back to the water, carefully dabbing my finger inside of it until the digit was sufficiently wet enough to moisten his lips.

As I leaned down to rub the moisture onto his mouth, David’s hand gradually lifted from the bed and he wrapped his cold fingers around my wrist.

The feeling was strange and almost unnatural, making me feel oddly repulsed and leaving me wanting to shake off his grip.

A terrible rasping bubbled up from his throat and it took me a moment to realise that he was attempting to speak, but his voice was so frail and broken that it hardly escaped him.

With a minor bit of hesitation, I leaned down closer to him in hopes of hearing him a little better.

“Robert…” He rasped out, his sour breath wafting over my face.

“Robert?” I whisper back, a little alarmed at hearing his name, “what about Robert?”

David weakly shook his head, which obviously pained him by how his face scrunched up the second he moved.

“It…isn’t…Robert,” he repeated, clearer and at a faster pace this time.

“I don’t understand, what do you mean?” I frowned whilst sparing a quick glance towards the door.

“There’s something…off…with Robert.”

“Like what?”

“I cannot say…but…something is different.”

I gave him a brief break whilst I grabbed the rag from the bowl to give him another drink of water, after wiping his face off again I set the rag back down and turned back to him.

Question after question filled my mind and it took me a while to get them into a suitable order as I thought about the things I had noticed about Robert over the past week, he still seemed bubbly but he was also quieter and more reserved and yet he still went out of his way to check up on me.

I didn’t want to push all of my questions onto a weak man and decided on the one that I needed more clarification on.

“I need you to be honest with me, was it Robert who pushed you?” I enquired shakily.

David let out a long breath and closed his eyes, giving me a brief moment of panic as I thought that he had given up for the time being right when I needed answers.

Thankfully, after about a couple seconds pause, he cleared his throat and opened his eyes once again.

“No,” he replied in a much clearer voice.

“So you know who it was?”

“I think so…but I also…believe that I may have been going mad.”

“Please tell me, was it a black spectre?”

“I believe that that is what I saw,” he nodded slowly, his eyes drifting closed once again.

I let out a shaky breath and felt my hands clenching as my nails dug harshly into my palm.

So I hadn’t been seeing things at all, she had indeed been there that night and Robert hadn’t been the only witness aside from myself.

In a rush, I thanked David for his time and began gathering up my things whilst telling him to rest, as I moved a bit of water sloshed out from the bowl and doused my dress but I cared not in my haste to leave.

“One more thing…before you go,” David croaked out.

I turned to him with a look of curiosity whilst holding the bowl to my stomach once again

“What is it?”

“Before our argument….before I stepped into the hallway, I heard him talking to someone…and when I investigated, I believe he was stood there with her.”

“Do you know what they were talking about?”

“I’m afraid not…but I feel it can’t have been anything good.”


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

It was only a few days later that David passed, putting a damp mood upon us all.

Everyone was affected, despite how oddly vile he had become the longer the men worked on the manor his death still shook the others.

Father wasted no time in appointing Ben as the new supervisor of the overall work and set about the task of preparing a resting place for David.

George and Hille spent the rest of that particular day searching and found a place a couple of miles away to serve as his grave, choosing to bury him somewhere further afield from the manor.

The morning after the left on foot with two shovels and didn’t return for almost eight hours, when they did eventually arrive back they were exhausted and covered in mud.

Whilst they then settled down for a nights rest, Ben, Nathaniel and Father set about the morbid task of wrapping David up in a worn bed sheet.

Outside, Jonathan and Alex prepared a cart for the morning, saving us time and resulting in us not having to get up even earlier than we already had to.

I used the moment hectic to step outside and clear my head, which felt over stuffed and tense after everything that had happened in such quick succession.

It seemed that keep busy was the best way to get by and make the hours whittle away, staying focused appeared to be helping the others but the silence everyone worked in was almost suffocating.

Every now and then there would be murmurs amongst a select few, but that mostly seemed to be about the next task for their current job.

Amongst the chaos, I came to notice that it seemed as if Robert was avoiding me.

There were times when he seemed to scoot around me or he’d abruptly leave a room that I had just entered.

A few times I witnessed him conversing with Father in a whisper, my father’s expression one of thought and intrigue, sometimes accompanied with a glance in my direction that I wholly believe he didn’t realise that I had noticed.

Opposite to her owner, China had taken to sticking vigilantly by my side as if scared that if she were to step away for a single moment that I would be horribly maimed.

Due to this protectiveness, she had escorted me as I stepped outside and went ahead on her own little scouting mission much like last time we had ventured out with Robert, only rather than steaming ahead she made sure to always keep me in her sights and would continuously glance back as if to make sure that I was still there.

I gave her a smile and made shooing gestures with my hands, attempting to tell her that it was fine if she went a little further without me. Each time she would trot a few feet further before stopping and looking back once again, her tail beginning to wag as she saw that I was still following behind her at my own pace.

As we casually strolled away from the manor, China a lot calmer this time than previous times, I took a moment to appreciate the great expanse around Allerdale Hall.

The vast area was so serene and peaceful, the trees much further afield looked inviting and I was ready to go and explore, just to get away from it all for a while.

All the occurrences around the manor were beginning to tire me by that point, being on edge and worrying about the next event and what it just may entail made my mind exhausted and my body numb.

Now with David’s death, who at least three of us were adamant was due to the spectre of Lady Sharpe, it was likely to only get worse.

Fingers and scorned gazes would likely be thrown towards Robert in accusation, he was the most likely suspect after all.

Would this lead to him being driven from this job?

Would he then leave Allerdale Hall with the weight of being a potential murderer on his back, perhaps the word spreading enough that any future employment could be hindered at least or entirely shunned at worst?

The thought of Robert losing everything but the clothes on his back upset me.

There was no denying that we had gotten close, I would daresay that I even considered him a friend by this point and there was no denying that I most certainly held him to a personal regard.

Perhaps one too personal, even.

So it was natural that I didn’t want Robert to lose his opportunities in life over something I was certain wasn’t his doing, but that was equally as difficult to prove.

No one else had noticed the ghost, just as it seemed that no one else had noticed the subtle changes to Robert over the course of the past few weeks, ever since receiving that wound to his hand.

If no one else had noticed then maybe the changes had all been natural progressions as we got closer, but somehow they felt like more.

Though it made sense for them to be natural when I put longer thought into it, he had initially been kind of timid or awkward, preferring to keep to himself, but now we were getting closer and he was opening up more of course I’d see differences in him the more time I spent with him.

I let out a long sigh and rubbed my forehead.

“What an idiot you are, letting your imagination make you believe it’s more than it truly is.”

I had to laugh at my own paranoia and how it was making me believe that somehow the manor was changing Robert.

China let out a sudden and excitable bark, making me jump and momentarily lose my composure and thought.

I looked towards her and saw her bounding towards the large rusted contraption where the last episode of outdoors strangeness had taken place, her tail was wagging as she skidded to a stop beside the only person in the area.

One who I hadn’t noticed during my musings.

He turned towards the dog and let out a chuckle, crouching down to greet her with an enthusiastic fur ruffle as she leaned into him with an air of adoration.

I too let out a laugh and walked over to them both, lacing my fingers in front of my dress.

“I believe she has missed you,” I spoke.

“Oh, hello, Mam,” he barely spoke with a dip of his head in greeting.

“Good evening, Robert,” I gave him a faint smile then casted my eyes over the large machine he had been stood beside. “Back with the contraption, I see.”

“It seemed like the best place to be.”

“Rather than inside helping the others?”

He frowned a little and stood back up, turning back to the large machine, “I wasn’t tasked with a job, I believe that they’d rather keep me at an arms length.”

“And that is why you’re out here?”

“Indeed, it’s strangely comforting.”

The smile that graced his lips was enough to show that he was fond of this machine, there seemed to be a kind of boyish excitement in the way he looked it over and that made my heart flutter.

It was wonderful to see people’s happiness over something they loved, learning of their interests.

What was better was the fact that he hadn’t shied away from me, we were actually talking without him dashing off and this lifted a weight ever so slightly off my shoulders.

Leaving him to his awe to save from ruining the moment, I made my way around to the front of the machine and looked at where part of it was deeply imbedded in the ground, the hole being partially filled by years of weather shifting the soil and elements around the unmoving obstacle.

“Where do you suppose it goes?”

Robert walked around to stand at my side and also stared down into the hole, his hands held behind his back.

“Going by the blueprints I believe if leads into a cellar.”

“We have a cellar?” I find myself laughing, though I’m unsure why I found it amusing.

“You have many tunnels running beneath this house, it’s astounding that it’s even still standing to be honest, but I suppose that is why everyone worked their hardest to preserve it.”

I looked at him from the corner of my eye, noticing that almost sombre expression again.

It had become a regular look for Robert and it felt somehow uncharacteristic of me, I knew him to be a chirpy man who would laugh and joke around with the others.

“You say that as if it’s a personal issue to you,” I commented, feeling almost as if I was trying to get a response from him to confirm some thought that was nibbling at the back of my mind.

“We should get inside,” he hummed, looking towards the sky, “it looks like rain.”

I too look up and note the sky darkening with both the sunset and dark clouds, a cold chill had also begun to stir up and give me goose bumps beneath my dress.

“I suppose you’re right,” I sighed, allowing him to divert the topic though it somehow only confirmed my suspicions that something was obviously amiss.

I feared that I knew what it was, but voicing it would only make me seem a little unstable and I had no concrete way of proving my suspicions.

Especially to a non-believer like him.

He had already turned to walk away as I tore my eyes way from the clouds, my eyes remained trained on his back and the fret of us once again going back to ignoring each other swelled in my chest.

I didn’t want to have him avoiding me at all costs, but I feared that bringing it up would do just that.

So instead I resolved to bringing up the topic later on and instead called after him just to settle my nerves.

“Robert, we are still alright, aren’t we?”

He stopped and turned to stare at me in silence for a few heartbeats, the unreadable expression on his face causing my chest to tighten in worry until finally a soft and friendly smile crossed his lips.

An expression that would stick with me by the way it made my heart flutter.

There was something about him right now that I found undeniably handsome in a way I had never openly admitted before.

“Of course we are,” he laughed whilst holding his arm towards me, indicating for me to link mine with his.

I pushed aside all concerning thoughts and returned his smile, dashing over to link my arm with his so we could walk comfortably back to the manor in order to rest for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more reader/Mam and Robert fluff before more shit inevitably goes down.  
> I actually have someone who ships them! I'm so excited about that, all I need now is some fanart and I'm an official creator!


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

We were all exhausted by the time we returned to the manor after burying David, the work men especially after the effort that had put into the burial arrangements.

Despite all of the work that still needed to be done, everyone retired to their rooms upon returning in order to get more rest in hopes that it’d alleviate both the mental and physical draining of such a sudden loss.

By late evening we all had started to trickle out of our rooms once again, alert but still heavily sombre from the mornings events.

Over time we all found our way into the kitchen, sitting in mismatching seats and staring at our cups, which mostly remained untouched, in silence.

Beats passed and no one said a word, the air was tense and awkward as unspoken grievances and accusations lay heavily between us all.

How many of them would continue to suspect Robert?

Would he think of leaving now that the scrutiny of the other men painted him as a murderer?

What would it take to convince them otherwise?

“Blast this.”

I jumped at Nathaniel’s sudden exclamation, my attention, as well as everyone else’s, was immediately drawn to him.

“I ain’t moping about just because that bastard is dead,” he continued.

His chair squealed against the floor painfully as he prepared to heave himself out of his seat.

“I know for a fact that he hid some liquor in his room, I say we break it open and have ourselves a merry time in his memory.”

“Is that okay?” Hille asked, glancing around the table. “Taking his stuff, I mean.”

“He’s dead, he ain’t gonna miss it.”

“The man has a point,” Father spoke up, “it may as well be put to good use and what better way than to celebrate the son of a bitch himself?”

“I can play the piano,” Jonathan chimed, though he shied away when everyone turned their attention to him. “I just happened to notice one in the drawing room that I could use, a little alcohol and some music would be wonderful.”

An unpleasant shudder coursed through me at the mention of the piano, I had avoided that particular area since my last experience there but perhaps being in company would make it a little easier and less intimidating.

Everyone else seemed keen on the idea, they were perfectly content with a small gathering of work associates using their deceased bosses’ alcohol to celebrate him.

It was a bit morbid to think of it in that regard, but they were the brutal facts.

With faint murmurs between us all, we all got up and shuffled into the other room whilst Ben wandered off to find the hidden bottles.

Jonathan immediately sat at the piano and pressed a few of the keys experimentally before jumping into a cheerful tune, one that seemed to instantly lift the mood of those around.

It was shortly after this first song had ended that Ben returned, carrying four large and unlabelled bottles, all of them far larger than I had anticipated and they made me wonder how he had manager to ‘hide’ them for all this time from the others.

Soon the drinks were flowing and some of us started to dance, though few had any rhythm.

Alex and Hille swung each other around with linked arms, the rest of us laughing and clapping in time to the song in encouragement.

The lift in the mood seemed to turn their attitude towards Robert for the better, there were no hesitations or lingering dark looks when he finally decided to step up and join them during the fifth song.

It was wonderful to see him coming out of his shell a little more after everything that happened, watching him laugh as he danced opposite George really helped to settle my worries about the remainder of his time in the manor.

The evening quickly shifted to early night and the alcohol was beginning to take effect, Jonathan’s piano playing became sporadic as he too helped himself to a few drinks every now and then.

Mother and Father retired to bed once again shortly after the sun finally set, leaving me in the care of the men.

At least to the best of their abilities considering their intoxication.

Alex, Ben and George were all sat in one corner, drunkenly discussing some politics I didn’t personally care for whilst Hille fussed over China, who was relishing at the attention from the drunk man.

Jonathan sat back at the piano after his glass had emptied once again and he started to play a slower song, the slow tune helping to keep Nathaniel in his snooze in the chair that sat in the corner of the room.

I took a sip from the tea I had made then rested the cup delicately in my lap when an outstretched hand unexpectedly invaded my vision.

“What is it, Robert?” I asked with a light laugh, lifting my eyes to meet his.

“I’d like to dance,” he replied with a cheerful smile.

“And what makes you believe that I can dance?” I grinned, raising the cup coyly to my lips to take another sip, one of my eyebrows quirking up a little.

“I doesn’t matter whether you can or can’t, it is the fun you have doing it that is important.”

I stared up at him with a blank expression, though fighting down a pleased smile at his hopeful look proved difficult the longer I tried.

“Good answer,” I conceded, setting my cup down to one side before taking his hand.

He gave me a light tug to assist in my standing up and instantly led me to the middle of the room, one hand resting on the small of my back whilst he kept the other clasped in his hand.

“Just trust me and follow my step.”

“Maybe not asking me to dance would have been a smarter thing,” I laughed.

“And leave you sitting alone to one side? Never.”

I hadn’t noticed that we had already started moving to the music, thought at that moment it was mostly a light swaying in place with the occasional turn on the spot.

A silence fell between us as we moved together, the music taking over all other sounds and making the rest of the room fade out as my attention stayed solely on Robert.

It was undeniable that he was a handsome man with a wonderful personality, perhaps too wonderful.

There was no way that no other woman had fallen to this man’s enticing personality, but in that one moment I felt like I was the only one to ever see this side of him.

“When did you become such a charmer?” I joked in order to stop my mind from ruining this moment.

“Perhaps I’ve always been and you simple haven’t noticed.”

I looked up at him and let out another light laugh at the impish expression on his face, a cheeky twinkle lighting up his pale blue eyes.

He soon began to lead us into a more extravagant pattern, moving further around the small space we had free.

There was something freeing about dancing, especially with a partner, moving so fluidly as if we were mere bodies of water.

As we danced I felt drawn close to Robert, being so close to him caused my heart to jump and my stomach to flutter in an uncomfortably giddy manner.

I found that tearing my eyes away from his proved difficult and it seemed that the original space between us was slowly diminishing.

Despite acknowledging all this, I was still taken by surprise when he leaned in completely and pressed his lips to mine.


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

The time seemed to slow around us, a cliché in itself but none the less true.

His lips lingered over my own, feeling ever so slightly chapped against my soft ones which gave them a strange but pleasant contrast.

We broke apart then began to experimentally give a mixture of lingering locks and brief pecks, getting used to the sensation of us being so close in a way I personally had never experienced with another person.

Thoughts of how scandalous this was rushed through my head, an unwed woman kissing a young bachelor without even going on an outing was sure to cause a stir were word to get out.

And yet I didn’t want to pull away from him.

There was no stopping the feeling of disappointment that tugged at me when he did inevitably end the kiss and he stepped back just a little.

I gazed up at him, both of us just staring at each other in a total daze, neither of us saying a word as the moment lingered in the air and my lips tingled pleasantly.

“I, um,” he started but trailed off and broke our eye contact, an awkward chuckle replacing the rest of his sentence.

An unbreakable smile of happiness and also slight embarrassment hurt my cheeks, which felt as though they were also burning hot.

“That was most certainly something,” I managed to laugh out, unsure of what to say but needing to fill the half conversation he had started.

“It was improper, I’m sorry.”

“No, it is perfectly fine.”

“I doubt that your father would approve of this and believe it to be ‘fine’.”

“Perhaps not, but I very much approve.”

I found that my cheeks flared up once again, the adrenaline of excitement was dying faster than I wanted it to and now I was feeling more unsure of what I was saying as each word passed my lips.

Now that he had brought it up, I couldn’t stop thinking of what Mother and Father would think of this, of his being an employee and neither of us seemingly attempting to court the other before making this bold move.

“It will be fine, Father will understand,” I soothed gently, though for his sake or mine I couldn’t be certain.

“I would still rather that we kept this between ourselves.”

“Then that we shall do.”

“Thank you.”

Our lips lightly brushed once more before we pulled away completely, each of us smiling shyly like two children sharing a secret.

From the corner of my eye I notice a movement in the furthest corner of the room to my right, just behind the piano.

Whilst attempting to not be too obvious in diverting my attention, not wanting to alert Robert in case it was my mind playing tricks on me due to the mixture of darkness and flickering candlelight, I gradually shifted my focus towards the corner.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust and differentiate what I was seeing from general darkness, but once the looming figure of Lucille had stood out in a blackness unlike any other she became hard to ignore.

A strange mixture of sensations surged through me.

The adrenaline of fear rushed through my veins much like it had many times during my stay here, but this time it mixed with the adrenaline of excitement from the kiss that was still vaguely there and this concoction became a strangely sensual urge inside me that was unlike anything I had ever felt.

The previous threat that Lucille had offered previously barely seemed there as my body began to have peculiar craves and needs, all seemingly in association to Robert.

Desires I have never felt for a man before.

I had to tear my gaze away from the spirit, who had moved no further from her spot in the corner, to settle my racing heart and come to terms with this overwhelming sensation that had washed over me.

For a brief moment I turned back towards Robert, who seemed to be just as focused on Lucille as I had been, though that could have been due to the positions we were stood in.

In the hopes that it would settle my nerves and break this peculiar moment, I subtly stepped back a few paces, my fingers lightly lingering on Robert’s to draw his attention as I moved.

“I should probably head up to bed, it’s getting late,” I smiled as he turned back towards me at the sound of my voice.

“I could escort you.”

“No, that is perfectly alright, we’ve already been quite debaucherous tonight.”

He laughed along with me, but nodded in agreement all the same.

“If you are quite done using me as your courting musician,” Jonathan started, though he got cut off by his own wide yawn, “I wish to return to bed myself.”

“Of course,” Robert agreed, each of us turning to face the younger man.

I was once again momentarily taken off guard by Lucille’s presence, despite looking directly at Jonathan I could still see wisps of the black smoke-like essence rising from her aspect in my peripheral vision as she remained stood in place.

Clearing my throat, I try my best to ignore her presence in the hope that it would stop those strange sensations from arising again and sending me further into a spate of awkwardness and confusion over her new influence.

“Very well,” I laughed softly, though I could still hear the tremor in my voice, “I shall bid you both a good night.”

The men who were still conscious, all two of them, bid me a well night in return and I picked up a candelabra from the nearest table left the room to head upstairs to the master bedroom.

It felt as if the second I was alone thoughts of a sordid and questioning nature began to batter the walls of my brain, I tried in vain to understand what had happened back there upon sighting Lucille but nothing I came up with seemed to make any sense.

I had barely reached halfway up the stairs when the sound of boots scuffed behind me and pulled me from my thoughts when a tired Jonathan walked past me, offering a small and tired smile with a tip of his head.

I returned my own as he continued past, watching as he reached the balcony and disappeared down the dark corridor.

Silence fell over the manor and I found myself subconsciously tensing as I stood alone in the flickering candlelight on the otherwise dark stairs.

A cold breeze comes in from the broken roof and sends a chill over me whilst threatening to blow out the flame on the candlewick, this spurred me on to get to the relative warmth of my bed much faster.

I managed to reach the top of the stairs when a voice caught my attention and caused me to stop once again, it was almost hushed and barely there but easy enough to detect when the only other sounds in the manor were my boots against the floor and the whistling of the wind from the roof.

“I suspected that she felt for me,” Robert spoke.

For a fleeting moment I believed that he was perhaps gloating to the others who weren’t as asleep as I initially thought when I left the room.

However, there didn’t appear to be any reply.

There were no boisterous or drunken laughs or any rowdy sounds of heckling from familiar voices.

“Just a while longer.”

I rested my hands on the railing and leaned over it every so slightly in order to hear him a little clearer.

“I shall be sure of our connection before asking her father’s permission to court her openly.”

A ridiculous wide smile spread upon my lips and my heart skipped a couple of beats, I’d never had a man feel romantically for me and overhearing a confession made me excited for the upcoming days.

Although what had happened between us should have been evident enough, I still found the concept of someone like him being interested in me in such a way and his self assuring speech made my heart flutter.

As if a man like Robert would need to worry about winning a lady over, if anything I was the one who was below his reach.

Now feeling giddy and forgetting my previous worries of things hidden within the darkness, I continued on to my bedroom with a new spring in my step.

“I promise you, Lucille, you shall live again.”


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

The days after proved to be uneventful beyond the men cracking on with their jobs, they were being amazingly efficient under Ben’s watch and it was wonderful to see their original chipper selves beginning to shine through once again.

Unfortunately, nothing went much further between Robert and myself, mostly due to him being kept busy with the renovations so the only time we got to see each other was during his breaks and at meals.

There was something coy and exciting about our shared glances and smiled, knowing that we each wanted the others’ company mutually was a comforting thought.

I believed that Mother had caught on to our little looks, as she began giving me suggestive looks and knowing smiles of her own.

The first time she gave me an all-knowing look, I feared that things would end abruptly for us, that she would out things to Father and he would put things to a halt.

The amount of relief I felt when nothing occurred was insurmountable.

It was on the fifth night after our kiss that Father made his announcement.

We were all gathered at the table, eating a beef meal that I had helped Mother to prepare.

The atmosphere was humming with a pleasantness that we hadn’t felt amongst each other for quite some time.

Even though it was tragic there was no denying that David’s death had been beneficial.

It was a cruel thought, but true all the same.

The noise was broken by Father’s tinkering on the side of his glass with the handle of his fork, his black and white peppered beat broken in half by a large smile.

He waited a moment for everyone to settle before clearing his throat and setting his fork down beside his half empty plate.

“I’m sorry to interrupt everyone’s engaging conversations, but I feel it’s time I had my say.”

Everyone fell into total silence, waiting for him to continue, even cutlery had stopped scraping on plates.

“It has been a treat getting acquainted with all of you, not just as your employer but also as a colleague and a friend.”

The men gave him a little cheer that Father was obviously not expecting, Mother placed a supportive hand over his whilst I shared a look and a smile with Robert.

“But,” he continued, giving Mother a wistful smile as she squeezed his hand, “all good times must come to an end and as such, we plan to depart tomorrow morning.”

“You’re going home?” I asked softly, feeling a little disjointed.

I understood that my parents had their own lives to run back in Wiltshire, but their presence within the large manor was a comfort for me.

It was a childish notion; however, the truth tends to be.

“We are,” Mother answered, “we trust that you will do marvellous things for this place.”

“We’ll continue working as hard as we can, mam,” Nathaniel nodded.

“Please, there is no need for a man of such experience to refer to me so formally,” she replied with a light laugh.

“Merely being respectful, mam, my age has no place here.”

“Here’s to a safe journey,” Ben cut in, raising his glass in a toast.

We each give a cry of varying well wishes, raising our barely filled glasses towards the centre of the table before taking a sip.

And just like that, we resumed on as if nothing had happened.

Conversations continued and food was finished, bit by bit people began to dribble out of the kitchen to find some evening entertainment.

I stood to help Mother tidy as she prepared the water to wash the sullied crockery. Father and Robert assisted and moved the plates, cutlery and glasses from the table and onto the sideboard as I made space by putting away the clean dishes.

“Sir,” I heard Robert whisper non-too discreetly to Father, “when you have a moment, I wish to speak with you privately.”

My heart jolted in excitement.

Was this going to be about what I had overheard?

It made logical sense, with this probably being his last chance before they left.

Unless it had happened beforehand during work hours and I hadn’t noticed them stepping off to the side for confidentiality.

“Of course,” Father obliged with a brief nod of his head, looking at Mother he asked, “do you mind?”

“Not at all, you boys can scurry off.”

Both gave us a courteous smile before leaving, my eyes trailed after them until Mother cleared her throat to gain my attention whilst acting like scrubbing the dishes had her enraptured.

“It seems as though someone is rather taken by our resident Robert.”

My cheeks flared up a little and heated at the glint in her eye, so I used the drying of the plates as a distraction.

“Well, he is a charming man.”

“Indeed he is, and just how far has he charmed you?”

“Not far, Mother, don’t go fretting.”

“I’m hardly fretting, I wish you would be just a little faster.”

“These things take time.”

“I know,” she sighed, rinsing out the large pot dinner had been cooked in, “but you’re nearing thirty, most women are married by your age, even I had you and your brother.”

“And I understand that, but no man had caught my eye, at least no free man.”

Mother took a side glance at me and then passed over the heavy pot for me to dry now that I was done with the plates.

“What about Jake?”

“Jake?”

“Yes, the boy from when you were younger.”

“We were ten,” I laughed, gasping out my surprise, “and it was definitely unrequited on my side, it also would have been short lived as he went to Harrow in the end.”

“I suppose,” she conceded as a small frown furrowed her brows, “I just worry about you.”

“As you always have, but there is no need, even if Robert and I don’t work out.”

“So, you plan on proceeding with courting?”

“If Father will allow it, yes,” I smiled, staring into the deep pot as if it would have the answer.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

No news had emerged by that night.

Hours drifted by, day turned to night and it seemed as though Robert had dropped off the face of the Earth.

For a brief spell I was worried that Father had disposed of him and hidden the body beneath the floorboards in a fit of daughter protective rage.

I attempted to distract myself with a book, but the biting loneliness of the dark beyond the candlelight proved too much and my attempts were in vain.

With a drawn I sigh, I set my book to one side and stared towards the door, willing for it to open and for Robert to walk in at any second.

My eyes grew tired as I stared unblinkingly at the thick wood, waiting in a silence so strong that I swore that I could hear my heartbeat.

Eventually, I grew restless and bored of waiting and came up with a small idea.

Throwing my cover to one side, I set my feet on the cold floor and take one of the smaller candelabras that sat on a small table top beside the bed and offered me reading light.

I stood and quietly crept to the door, pulling it open as carefully as I could I thanked the stars that the hinges made next to no sound despite their age and long time of no use before we had arrived.

Poking my head out, I looked up and down the dark corridor as if I could see something before stepping out of the room, closing the door behind me.

My feet padded on the bare floor as I made my way down the hallway, a strange tingle instantly running down my spine and putting me a little on edge.

It was an uncomfortable sensation that grew worse the further down the dark hall I walked, but one that wasn’t unfamiliar to me.

This was the exact same feeling I would always experience when I had my back turned to the darkness, as if I was just waiting for something to emerge and grab me.

There was a saying I’d heard in my teens, where from I can’t remember, but it said that if you felt a shiver down your spine when you were facing away from darkness that it was a ghost or spirit following behind you and that the worst thing you could do was look over your left shoulder.

Ever since I had heard the old tale, I had always been paranoid about feeling that shiver.

Even at my old home, which was of course unwarranted as I’d never experienced anything in my years of living there, but Allerdale Hall was a completely different story.

If anything, I’d be ridiculous to not be paranoid about spirits behind my back within the manor.

But I did my best to ignore it and continued on my mission to reach Robert’s room at a brisk pace.

Thankfully, the trip proved uneventful and I managed to reach his room unscathed beyond light goosebumps that ran down my arms, my light nightdress not adding any protection from the chill within the corridor.

“Robert?” I whispered as I knocked on the door, “are you in there?”

I took a small step back and waited for a response.

After a few beats of silence, I stepped forward again and went to knock a little harder.

My knuckles barely managed to graze the hard wood when distinct hushed voices caught my attention and made me pause.

My brows furrowed and I pressed my ear against the door in hopes to hear a bit clearer.

The murmurs from inside were barely hearable, but every now and then a clear word could be made out amongst the otherwise muffled talk.

From what I could gather, it sounded like someone giving another instructions about a piece of machinery.

The words ‘bolt’, ‘levers’ and ‘rust’ being the main ones that I could manage to pick up.

I pushed my ear harder against the door to try and confirm what I believed that I had just heard.

“Will I need to order any further parts?”

“Unless they are entirely irreparable compared to the rest, no, you should be perfectly fine.”

“I still worry about this, I have no experience with heavy machines.”

“Fret not, I shall guide you through it all.”

I had been correct in my assumption and the two voices were unsurprisingly male.

Pulling away from the door, I began to try and see if I could place the other voice but ciphering through the ones I knew made no match.

Apart from Robert and Robert alone.

The accent and annunciations were almost perfectly identical, with only a few differences that were so minor that they would be easy to overlook and miss.

Perhaps it was a conversation about something work related, but I was certain that no other work man sounded like that and I had to know who he was talking to for the sake of my own curiosity.

Clearing my throat and steeling myself, I once again moved closer to the door and knocked.

“Robert?” I called again, considerably louder this time.

There’s another pause, during which the voices hushed and paper rustled before he yells; “You may enter.”

I gently opened the door and poked my head in, offering an almost sheepish expression as thoughts of this perhaps being a bad idea sprung up to raise doubts.

“Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” he smiled, “what can I do for you?”

“Well you see,” I hummed as I stepped in fully and let the door close behind me, “you never returned after speaking to my father.”

“Ah, yes, I do apologise.”

“There’s no need,” I shrugged, stepping up to his bedside.

As I approached, I noticed the book that he had held in his hands.

Tilting my head a little, the candle light he was reading by illuminated the intricate illustrations and beautifully hand written notes well enough for me to see what it was.

“Is that Sir Sharpe’s book?”

Robert glanced at the book as if even he didn’t realise what he was holding, before he gave a small nod.

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind but I picked it up the other day.”

“Not at all, I wasn’t exactly using it and it’s not mine to get upset over.”

Robert nodded again and turned his attention back to the illustration of the machine outside.

His eyes seemed to soften as he looked over the page, a look that seemed to shift drastically between a look of determination and one of uncertainty in a matter of seconds, though that could have been the effect of the firelight.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Pardon?” He asked, his head snapping in my direction.

“Before I entered, it sounded like you were talking to someone.”

“Oh, no,” he laughed, “just myself.”

“Do you normally talk to yourself?”

“More often than some may think.”

“It’s good that someone is open about the habit, needless to say that I’m impressed.”

“Encouraging madness? It seems that someone has been reading too much Alice in Wonderland.”

Robert huffed out a laugh and then shuffled to one side, his hand patting the top of the bed.

“Please, sit down.”

I smiled and took the offer, perching on the edge of the bed and getting comfortable.

“How did the talk go with Father?”

“Wonderfully,” he smiled in return.

My heart fluttered at the answer and my own cheek aching grin took over my attempted poker face.

“And what was it about?”

Robert’s gaze flickered over me and a mischievous look replaced his whimsical one from a second before.

“I shall keep that for another day.”

I felt my face fall a little and hoped that he hadn’t noticed, although I knew he wouldn’t be angry, I still didn’t want him to know that I knew what it was about this entire time for reasons beyond even my knowledge.

In an attempt to cover my disappointment, I hummed with what, in the end, felt like an unenthusiastic tight pinch of a smile.

“Fair enough.”

I wholly believed for a minute that Robert didn’t believe me in the slightest and was about to accuse me or fibbing, but he made no comment and decided instead to abruptly change the subject.

“So, what are you doing up this late? It surely can’t be because of my non-return earlier.”

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep and wanted to visit you for a change.”

“How lovely, I appreciate the gesture.”

“Well it is one that you have extended to me often enough, it seems about time that I returned the favour.”

Robert gave no response beyond a kind look and moved his hand to my leg, his thumb rubbing patterns into the material of my nightdress as he stared at the book that rest in his lap.

He fell completely silent and just stared, seemingly without blinking, at the cover of the book, his mouth set into a tight line.

My hand rests on top of his as I decide not to break his train of thought, my worry for him growing the longer he focused on the object but more than likely being unwarranted.

The quiet between us was sudden but peaceful and it wasn’t long before I began to finally feel the lull of sleep dragging me in.

Just as I felt the urge to either head back to my own bed or to lie atop of Robert’s covers, he suddenly jolted back to reality.

“I have an idea,” he blurted, catching my startled attention.

“Do go on,” I commented, eyeing him as I try to calm my nerves from the sudden jolt.

“Seeing as sleep is evading us both, how about I take you somewhere?”

“At this time of night in the middle of nowhere?” I asked, slowly raising my eyebrow but laughing in amusement all the same, “you have peaked my interest.”

“Great,” the grinned, hastily shoving the covers off of him and getting out of bed, his own nightshirt crumpled and the top buttons opened and exposing some of his chest below his collarbones, “follow me.”

I couldn’t ignore his glee and got up to follow him.

The candelabra he took from his table being my only beacon of light as he lead me into a maze of darkness and the unknown.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

After following him through the many twists and turns of the manor, we finally entered the lift and made our way down the rickety shaft, into the awaiting darkness.

For a short while, I feared that he had gotten lost within the darkness, we had taken so many routes that the manor offered that I myself was beginning to get disoriented until we reached the lift.

Rather than making a rickety journey up, we instead lurched down, to go into the deeper recesses of Allerdale Hall.

I glanced towards Robert and notice that the light flickering over his face made him somehow more handsome in a mysterious way, it was already hard enough not to stare at the only thing illuminated in this box but this fact just made it worse and I couldn’t pry my eyes away.

For a passing second his eyes flickered to me and he caught me staring, to which he smiled and quirked his head to one side.

“I something the matter?”

“Not at all, if anything I’m in awe of you.”

“Of me? But I am nothing special.”

“Then you will truly be astounded when you learn how wrong you are.”

He laughed bashfully, rubbing a hand through his curls which had grown since he had first arrived here.

“You think too highly of me.”

“I wholly doubt that.”

I smiled up at him, admiring just how tall he was until the lift came to a jittering stop, almost throwing me off balance. If Robert hadn’t managed to hold me steady with an arm circled around my waist, I was sure to have stumbled into the rusty grate before us.

“Be careful,” he chuckled good-naturedly, stepping away from me and pulling the grate open, allowing me to step out.

I smiled and thanked him despite the playful roll of my eyes at his teasing statement and shuffled past his arm, which he had extended out in flourished invitation.

A freezing cold breeze picked up immediately after I had left the lift, causing me to shudder and wrap my arms around my chest, protecting my body’s natural reaction from Robert’s eyes.

He stepped out behind me as I looked across the wide area he had brought me to.

It appeared to be a cellar, but yet much more than a cellar, if anything I would describe it more akin to a hidden mine.  
A long and semi-illuminated path ran ahead of us, holes in the roof above our heads letting moonlight seep into the room, what appeared to be a draining pipe was set in the middle of stone tiles that led to a metal grate in the centre of the room.

Congealed within this pipe was something thick and red that at a glance could appear to be blood.

Cylinders built from bricks ran down either side of the room, three to each side, most were covered by rusted metal lids that looked heavily locked whilst two remained open as if their lids were lost long ago.

I could vaguely make out something descending from ceiling to floor at the furthest end of the room, but a large mass of blackness made it difficult to tell what without a large guess.

Lights were hanging down from the ceiling, but I had no doubt that, much like the others lights yet to be replaced around the manor, after the many years of no use that they no longer worked and so we had to make do with Robert’s candelabra as just a bit more added light for a while longer.

I looked around in complete awe, astounded that for the weeks that I had been living here I hadn’t known that such a place was right beneath us.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Robert asked, his voice coming out much quieter than I would have thought in such an empty space.

“Yes,” I breathed out, “it is really something to behold.”

Robert nodded and moved down the aisle between the concrete cylinders.

“The history of this place is truly enthralling,” he commented, this time his voice echoed back ever so slightly.

“That would be putting it very lightly,” I hummed in agreement.

I followed behind him, my eyes casting over every nook and cranny that they could settle on until we had reached the end of the room, my feet were cold and sticky from the stone floor and what coated it but my curiosity urged me on to continue.

Turning to the cylinder on my left side, I stepped closer and rested my hands on top of the cold slabs to hold myself up as I leant over to peer inside.

My eyes were briefly stunning by the mass of red that met them and I had to blink away the rising ache and watering.

It startled me just how bright the contrasting colour was to the rest of the room that was hidden in relative darkness, the moonlight coming in from above us seemed to hit the substance just in the right spot and made it almost appear to glow.

“This is amazing, are all of these filled with this stuff?”

Robert half turned towards me and regarded me for a moment before returning to the object buried beneath what appeared to be a mound of dirt, its ending reminding me of steep stairs.

“They are,” he grinned, “each of these are filled with red clay, I believe it’s quite valuable.”

“The red clay being what gave Allerdale Hall the nickname of Crimson Peak?”

“The one and the same,” he nodded then pointed towards the caved in object, “and this is where the machine we found ends, it would dig the clay out from the ground and here is where it appears to have stopped altogether.”

“It seems a bit dangerous, the floor beneath it could cave at any second giving the look of the ceiling above us.”

“A risk I’m sure Sir Sharpe was willing to take if it meant gaining success and respect.”

I huffed out a laugh, the exhale puffing out a cloud in front of my face.

“This is amazing, it doesn’t feel like we’ve moved too far from the manor.”

This was true, the lift travelled quite far down, but I never would have guessed that it led to somewhere that almost seemed to be completely separated from the main building.

“It is,” Robert agreed, his hand moving over part of the rusted machine that was peeking out from amongst the dirt. “What we have here is a big part of the history of this place.”

“Where Edith climbed out,” I answered to his statement, sharing in the moment of knowledge exchange.

“Yes,” he said in an almost haunted tone, “scary when you think about it, everything that happened here.”

“It’s almost like something from a Grimm brothers tale,” I laughed lightly.

Stepping back until I feel the curved brick work press into me, I rested my hands atop the cold stones and heaved myself up, with a bit of effort for I was never the strongest in the arms, so that I sat perched on the edge of the cylinder.

“Now do tell me, why would a lady such as yourself read such grisly things as the Grimm brother’s tales and be interested in tragedies like what occurred here?”

“I’m not sure to be completely honest, for blind entertainment I am sure.”

“You seem a bit too intellectual to do so for mere entertainment.”

He strode away from the buried machine and towards me so that he loomed over, not an act of intimidation, but purely due to his height.

“Not everything has to have a deeper purpose, Robert,” I smiled, running my hands up his arms until they reached his shoulder, where my fingers rested at the collar his nightshirt, “sometimes things just are.”

Another cold shiver ran over me and didn’t go unnoticed by Robert, who moved his hands so that he could rub some warmth into the top of my arms.

He stepped closer and it was almost an immediate effect when I felt his body heat mingle with my own and offer me a sense of comfort, with his presence being so close I was welcomingly distracted from all the previous events of the manor and the fact that my parents were leaving in the morning.

In that single moment, he was my everything.

“We most definitely shouldn’t be down here alone,” I commented in an attempt to break the silence, a mutual need was evidently growing between us the longer we were alone and a safe distance from everyone else.

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a nod and a coy smile, “but I am enjoying it too much to let this go just yet.”

“My father will be displeased if he learns of this,” I responded light-heartedly, though it was a true concern of mine.

“On the contrary.”

I looked up at Robert and he stooped down to get closer to my face, his breath barely ghosting across my lips as his own ever so slightly brushed against mine with his next words.

“In fact, he wished for me to make an honest woman out of you.”

My gasp of surprise and excitement had barely escaped me before Robert’s lip finally met mine in a kiss we both shared equal amounts of eagerness in, the unbreakable smile on my face made the kiss harder than it needed to be and yet neither of us attempted to stop and gather ourselves so that we could try again.

Instead Robert stepped closer once more, his hips resting against my thighs unlike any man I had ever encountered had before, my nightdress and his long nightshirt barely offered us significantly thick layers to the point where we were dangerously close to touching skin to skin.

I kissed him in a way that we had never shared before, a burning need to be closer to him growing inside my stomach to the point of almost pain and discomfort.

My hands kneaded and scraped at the fabric of his nightshirt, my every fibre wanting to take it off of him but the constant nag in my mind that such acts were best left for after marriage talked sense into me, just barely.

Robert’s own hands seemed more fascinated with my hair, clasping and stroking it whilst applying pressure to the back of my head to deepen our salacious act.

Being like this with him was something of a wish come true and nothing could have dampened my mood.

Not the thought of my parents somehow catching us.

Not the cold that seeped through every fibre of our beings.

Not the past events that had kept me up at night in worry and fear.

The only thing that eventually pulled me away from this glorious moment in time was when pressure was applied to my hips by two hands.

Two hands that were too cold, too thin and too wet to be Robert’s, whose fingers were still tightly grasping the locks of my hair.


	30. Chapter Thirty

I said nothing to Robert about the hands grabbing onto me and he didn’t seem to notice, almost as if I had imagined the whole thing.

And for a spell, I truly did wonder if madness had finally caught up with me and everything that had happened thus far within the manor had driven me to a point of no return, but the proof was as clear as day by the prints of red clay that were cemented onto my nightdress.

The time passed by too quickly, I had barely returned to my room and slept after bidding Robert a goodnight outside his bedroom door before I had to get up and see my parents off, by estimate I would have guessed to have had hardly two hours of rest.

As we stood outside the manor’s front doors tears were shed, mostly by Mother who had always been rather over sentimental, and tight farewell hugs were exchanged but proved difficult to break.

It took longer to see them off than it should have, each of us stalling for just a second longer together in order draw out the inevitable, until they both hesitantly climbed into the awaiting carriage and the driver, who had been more than patient with us, whipped the horses into motion.

I stayed outside of the manor’s doors in the bitter morning wind, one arm wrapped around my waist whilst waving goodbye with the other until they were no longer visible.

With a saddened sigh, I stepped back inside and rushed directly to my bedroom, knowing that I had plenty of time before having to prepare a morning meal for the men.

Upon entering the room, I closed the door behind myself and hurried over to the bed, crouching before it to pull out the large trunk I had stashed underneath.

I grunted with the effort it took to heave it out, the trunk thumping loudly along the bare floorboards in reply and threatening to wake up the sleeping workers.

Glancing over my shoulder, I pause for a few breaths to make sure that no one had stirred due to the noise and intended to come to investigate, but when nothing sounded, I hastily unclipped the thick bronze latches and hefted the lid up.

Still laid out as straight as I could get it within the cramped space, with the handprints undisturbed, was my nightdress from just a few hours prior.

Carefully peeling it out of the trunk, I set it delicately atop the bed and shifted around on my knees so that I could kneel beside it with the closest unobstructed view.

My eyes roamed over the red clay that thickly outlined two long and almost too thin to be human fingers, the memory of how cold the hands had been against my hips still very vivid in my mind.

There was no denying that they were there, I had tried to convince myself earlier of it being a trick of the light, perhaps even the atmosphere of the cold and unexplored area of the manor had gotten to me and that what decorated the thin white fabric was purely a coincidental brush up that I had put too much imagination in to.

Looking upon them now only confirmed my worst fears and chilled my bones.

“There’s something in the clay,” I whispered to myself.

There was something about saying my conclusion aloud that set in a grim determination and I instantly knew what I had to do, I just needed the right time to do it.

For a stuttering moment as I stared at the nightdress, I believed that I had felt a cold breeze pass through my hair, too reminiscent of the clammy hands from earlier.

I held my breath as a low, rasping exhale came from behind me, a firm grasp slowly draping over my shoulder as wisps of black rose up from the digits.

“No, Lucille,” I spoke calmly, closing my eyes and trying to control my nerves, “you shan’t scare me anymore.”

“I don’t wish to scare you,” she whispered horribly, her voice too close to my ear, “I just want to live.”

“You’ve had your time and you shall not be taking mine.”

A shiver ran through me at the sound of her harsh laugh, it sounded cold, uncaring and terrifyingly inhuman.

“I always take what I want.”

My lips had barely a chance to part to reply when the distant sounds of thumping arose from the rooms down the hall.

The workmen had risen for another day of work.

With a gasp of haste, I ripped the nightdress from the bed and forced it back into the trunk, this time not being mindful of preserving the prints congealed onto the fabric.

“We are done here, Lucille,” I huffed, sounding braver than I felt, “I shall see to it that you never haunt the world as more than a spirit.”

She didn’t reply immediately, giving me time to force the trunk back under the bed and stand before she was upon me, her decrepit face leaning into mine with a foul sneer of what could only be described as pure hatred.

I couldn’t be sure if it was purely due to her current state, the dark and foreboding presence of her lingering soul that was shrouded in the black wisps of her evil deeds, or whether she had been a tall woman in life, but she stood tall and loomed over me like I were a mere child.

“I shall be reunited with my Thomas,” she howled awfully, the sound sending unpleasant tingles through almost all my senses.

Her visage then appeared to dissipate entirely, as if she had been eaten up by the fog-like cloak that seeped off her and swept into the air.

I wish that had been the case, that that was the end of it, but now I had so many other questions dancing through my already fragile mind.

I had thought that I was getting better at facing her, but it seemed that Lucille could easily break any resolve I had.

Perhaps I should have left with my parents, returned home and attempted to forget everything that had happened.

Try to live a happy life and forget all about Allerdale Hall, the red clay.

Maybe even Robert.

But it was too late to make such a decision now, not only because my parents had already started their long journey but also because I was determined to find answers to Lucille’s claims and to put a stop to them.

To start off with, I had to decipher what she had meant.

‘I want to live,’ had been what she had croaked, the words dripping like venom, but how did she intend to do that?

Did Lucille wish to possess me?

To take control of my very being and steal my life from me?

And what was that about reuniting with Thomas?

No matter the answers, I would not allow any of it to happen, but was there any possible way that I could defend myself?

Lucille was now another being of an unnatural world and I possessed no power to stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out!  
> It's more of a filler chapter before things really start taking their turn and we wind down to the ending :(


End file.
